Cleansed Power
by Doreedo
Summary: Harry returns to Number Four after fifth year to Fawkes on his bed. The letter attached to his leg changes Harry's mood immediately and launches him into a story of cursed blood, removed seals, hidden romance, and powerful friendship. HHr others TBA
1. Snapping out of it, Explanations, and Cl

**Cleansed Power: Harry Potter, a post OotP fic**

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Author's note:** I've decided to post the start of my firt HP Fic now. I plan on having this story reach over 150k in word count, and most likely the per chapter word count will be higher than what is currently here. I AM searching for a beta reader, and this chapter will go through them after I have decided upon one. (Please note that I will need you to show some sort of previous work and/or editing skill before I consider you as a beta. If anybody has a recommendation regarding a beta, please feel free to let me know) The solid pairing in the fic will be H/Hr. I won't say any others for certain, but the way things are looking is G/N and R/LL. RL/NT are also likely. Note also that Ron will not be portrayed the best for some time, although he will be redeemed. (For those who fear I may make him a 'bad guy', it's just what I view as a logical human reaction when what happens happens)

Without further ado, the disclaimer for this entire fic, and then the story.

Harry Potter and all related characters and storylines are copyrighted by their original owners and leased owners; this is an unauthorized, non-profit, use of the aforementioned material.

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**Chapter One: Snapping out of it, Explanations, and Cleaning Blood **

The journey home to Privet Drive was a sordid affair; glances sent Harry's way by the threatened Dursleys were full of malice, and traffic delayed arrival to his 'home', prolonging the discomfort of forced contact with his 'family'. Harry silently brooded upon the events leading up to his trip away from Hogwarts, providing yet another blatantly depressive fact to his summer existence. He couldn't help but restate in his head the words that caused him this brooding, like a record player jinxed to repeat.

_Sirius is dead. He's gone; the only family I've known and liked is gone._

It was his own bloody fault of course – as Hermione had told him before, he had a 'saving-people-thing'. Even as angry as he was at the time, he knew it was true. He'd reasoned out that it wasn't a bad thing…but it had resulted in him killing his only godfather this time rather than saving him. Not to mention the countless times his friends could have been killed, along with Dumbledore and others of the Order.

_I'm really brilliant aren't I? Prolly could give Crabbe a run for his money…_

He continued expounding upon his own negligence and arrogance as the car pulled into a driveway and stopped. He had already gotten out, grabbed his trunk along with Hedwig, and was standing in his room before he realized that he had done any of it. Returning to his thoughts, Harry began freeing Hedwig, opening his trunk, and putting away his robes and other clothes.

Just as he was reaching for quills and the only remaining pack of parchment he had, a soft trill snapped him out of his mind's own constant nagging. Fawkes sat on his footboard, preening himself with dignity that was matched by Hedwig's own cleaning. He held out a leg which had a small leather roll attached to it. Harry stared mutely at the phoenix, wondering vaguely what he'd done now.

Walking reluctantly over to Fawkes and detaching the leather roll, Harry felt the familiar tingle of magic wash against his hands. The leather suddenly unrolled itself, revealing a piece of regal parchment, which in turn floated off of the leather and into Harry's now empty hands. Promptly, the leather re-rolled itself, and flew back to Fawke's leg – which was still outstretched, giving the appearance that this wasn't too abnormal for him.

Harry glance down at the parchment, realizing what he had just received. This was no ordinary letter; it was something of utmost importance – a sealed, promised, and more importantly _expensive_ letter and piece of parchment now rested in his hands. This letter could only be read by the one it was intended for, unless they chose to share the information with another, and had to be sealed by the person who wrote it, with two others present who both knew a high degree of Occlumency and Legilimency. This was to verify the absolute truth of the document, and the multiple charms and hex-triggers placed around the piece of paper proved just _how_ important it was. Of course, he only knew about these letters because Hermione had told him about them, but still…

Pulling the letter closer after his initial shock of actually seeing one of these, Harry noticed the unique scrawl immediately; this letter was from Sirius.

_Hey Harry!_

_I know that you're reading this because I died in our most 'Mysterious' location and I would like to send you a message that I was too cowardly to give you before my death. I'm sitting here writing this, knowing that tomorrow evening will be my last…I should let you know how I've come to see that before I move on._

_As you know (I hope), your mother Lily was somewhat of a seer – she saw things before they happened, but not to the extent of being able to make predictions…most of the time. Usually with concentration she would be able to see one or two minutes into the 'future', or a possible future. Her gift wasn't incredibly reliable, which is why for the most part it was ignored. She had, though, made a few predictions…you've seen the trance before, so you know when I say that these were different what I mean._

_I was caught in the middle of one of these trances while you weren't yet born, and your father was meeting with Dumbledore. It was a short and simple prediction, which I'm thankful for (we both know my memory is rather bad) and I was immediately caught in it when the opening statement was made. For your sake, let me write it down on this parchment, so that you can realize the full extent of what I'm trying to tell you._

"_Betrayed by his servant, the pad-footed one - he who marauds - shall die the eve of six saviors' escape, in a place most mysterious. Heralding the light his body shall leave, and the marked one's powers shall be unblocked soon after."_

Harry was aware that he had sat down on his bed only slightly, while letting the full weight of the prophecy written down sink into his mind. The 'marked one' was an easy guess as to who it was, although Harry felt uncomfortable with the new nickname; he couldn't figure out exactly why the group whom had traveled to the Department of Mysteries was called 'those six of light'. Surely, it could just be in reference to how they are opposing the 'dark', Voldemort, but perhaps it meant something else…

_Now I know you're probably going to start saying 'but he didn't know when!'…and you'd be right about that, halfway. I've always been one to follow my hunches – I wouldn't exactly call it intuition – which is why I so rabidly thought that Moony could have betrayed your parents. Well, I was wrong on that account, but don't let that fool you, today I had a feeling that couldn't be ignored. I recalled the prophecy out of the blue, and felt a small sense of resolution settle in my gut. I'm sure you'll like to argue that maybe it didn't _have _to happen, and that perhaps my resolution was just Kreacher's horrid cooking, but it did. Just trust me, please._

_That's enough of all the droopy information for now, huh? Well, let's get on with all the other stuff you need to know. Gringotts will be sending you a letter soon announcing my death and your inheritance of most of my fortune – some is going to our mutual friends, and I have set up a fund for the Hogwarts DADA class to use for equipment and teaching, so in a way it's for you too. If you could give Fred and George my blessing for their shop, that'd be great (In my will I have turned over my full Marauder support for their advertising, so all they need to do is convince Moony)._

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the last. Remus would most likely not give a second thought to throwing his support behind the twins if Sirius had. He thought briefly at the amount that Sirius must have to give away if he could give money to Hogwarts that would actually improve it…and as for his own inheritance…he had already received more than enough from his parents.

_The rest of the details can wait until the hearing of my will – I assure you, you'll get a kick out of it (even if you are still mad at me for dying). One thing you should know so that Hermione doesn't get sick when you enter Headquarters is that I have ordered Kreacher's death on mine…I know that you would have had to get rid of him anyway (damn House-elf is the only servant I have to betray me), but this saves you the trouble of trying not to kill him – I wouldn't wish his attitude on anyone else (I wonder how many people he's ruined over the years?)._

_With all that over, let me just say best of luck. Your parents and I will wait for you over here, and tell Moony we'll do the same for him. Hope you can 'unblock' that power soon…perhaps Hermione could help you with that. Indeed, I'm _sure_ she could. (Although I doubt that it will have to do with her being the 'bloody brightest witch in Hogwarts, and a pest too' as Ron told me once)_

_Sirius_

Harry wasn't quite sure how to take all of this knowledge he'd been presented with. Once he read the prophecy, he'd felt both a weight fall upon his chest at the knowledge that Sirius too had his death dropped upon him with a foresight, and also a sense of relief, knowing that his Godfather didn't blame him. If all Sirius had done was explain the prophecy, Harry would've been a lot less confused though.

"_What the does he mean by 'perhaps Hermione could help you…'?"_

Of course he'd ask for her help, but why mention her specifically in it? That wasn't only the only bit – Harry never expected a donation to Hogwarts to be part of this more personal letter, perhaps the will, but why in this too? Sighing in frustration rather than sorrow, which was an improvement already from the past few hours of being stuck with the Dursleys, Harry got up from his bed and grabbed some parchment and a quill to begin writing a few people.

Hermione, of course, was the first he wrote. She was not only the most intelligent friend he had, but a person he would trust with anything. Or…almost anything. He wasn't quite sure yet whether he wanted to tell her about the prophecy, but mainly just so that he could protect her. He moved his thoughts back to the letter he was writing. Relating some of what Sirius's letter had said, and the just of what he thought should be kept secure in owl post, then asking for her help. Her help in one, finding this power he was supposed to realize, and then also in figuring out how to feel – guilty at no longer feeling responsible? Hurt for everyone else who didn't have a prophecy as warning? He was pretty sure she'd be surprised at the length of his letter, considering that usually it was she to write the novel-length post.

The next he wrote to was Dumbledore, as Fawkes still sat by his bed, staring at him as he wrote. Hedwig flapped over to Harry as he was finishing the letter to Dumbledore – although since he probably was present for the writing of the letter, it didn't matter. In it he also requested help in finding this power…between Hermione and Dumbledore, he didn't think he'd have to wait long for his power to be revealed.

After tying the letter to Fawkes' leg, the phoenix disappeared in a burst of flames, and Harry could turn his attention to writing a letter to Remus. Relaying all of the information he was asked to by Sirius, and all of the other pieces of information he thought would be useful, Harry continued on to say that the trip home was fine, and that the Dursleys would likely not be paying much attention to him thanks to Moody's little speech.

To Ron he wrote the least, not because he didn't want to say much to him about the ordeal, but because there wasn't a whole lot of information in the letter that Harry felt concerned him, and that would likely lead to uncomfortable questions by his friend. Ron didn't always have the…tact…that Hermione did.

Tying the letters to Hedwig's ready leg, Harry told her where each was to be dropped off, ending with Hermione. She knew that when she got to Hermione's house she was to wait, as she had yet to get an owl of her own.

Exhausted even though it was only just dinner time, Harry went back over to his bed and lay down, taking off his glasses and falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Hermione was just getting done with dishes from her dessert when a snowy white owl flew in through an open window. Landing on the kitchen counter, she glanced at Hermione's parents before hooting at the girl herself. The hoot sounded so dignified and demanding that her parents began laughing at the regal owl and Hermione threw them a look before turning to see what Hedwig thought was so important. 

Untying the letter from Hedwig's talon, she offered her shoulder to the bird and starting walking to the living room, where her parents were seated, just in case his letter was going to cause her worry enough to need to go see him.

"_Which wouldn't really be a bad thing," she thought, "the seeing him part that is…"_

Shaking the thought out of her head and sitting down on the sofa next to her mum, she opened the length of parchment and was surprised by how much Harry had written. Even when he wasn't dealing with Sirius's death (she cringed in recalling the event, and perhaps just a little also at the still raw part of her chest) he had never written this long of a letter before. As she started reading his letter, tears began forming at her eyes. Seeing this, her mother was slightly anxious.

"Is everything all right dear?" she asked, glancing at her husband with a bit of the worry showing on her face.

Laughing slightly, Hermione replied, "Yes mum, he got a letter from Sirius explaining a few things…and he's taking them quite well. He has even asked me for some help. Not that he really needs to ask of course. What sort of friend would I be if I didn't try and help him with his problems…?"

"Well, what was it that could have made such a change?" her dad cut in, sensing a 'Harry rant', as he'd taken to calling them in his mind, and privately with his wife.

Hermione read a bit more before answering – just so that she could get it right the first time, making everyone's lives easier, "In the letter Sirius told him about a prophecy made by his mum that Sirius would die there, that is, the Department of Mysteries, and knew that it would be that day. A couple other things were in the letter, but that was the most important part."

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Hermione began to sniff softly as tears flowed upon her cheeks. She had just read into where Harry explained how Sirius had given her money (as a 'mutual friend' as Sirius called most of those he knew) and went on to say that Kreacher was gone, but not quite how. Explaining why she was crying to her mother and father, they sat stunned. From what she made it sound like, she'd be receiving a goodly sum of money – not that they cared about the amount, but it was still a shock.

"Perhaps you should wait until morning to send Hedwig back with a reply, hun, she looks a bit tired right now, and I'm sure you'd like to think through it" her mum said, gently prodding her in the direction of her room, and thus bed, with an arm that was giving a hug at the same time.

As Hermione finished up the letter, she kissed each of her parents good night, and agreed, walking slowly up the stairs and into her room, where she quickly sat Hedwig in her usual spot, on top of her desk, with a water dish and a bit of food laid out. Climbing into her pajamas and then into bed, she fell asleep silently, planning out her response to her best friend, and wondering whether he would perhaps be able to have a better summer this year.

* * *

Dumbledore sat at his desk, sipping a cup of cocoa while reading the letter Harry had just sent via Fawkes. Smiling at how Sirius knew exactly when he should tell his Godson this news, he started preparing to help Harry find this power, just as Harry requested. He also prepared for other things, sending out a flurry of owls to people that would be needed once Harry was back from Gringotts and the reading of Sirius's will. 

It was a shame that such a good wizard had to be lost before he, the one who was supposedly all-wise, could realize how mistaken he had been in holding him to Grimmauld Place. The guilt of such a loss still weighed on his mind, even though he knew the circumstances of the prophecy. He realized with Sirius's death that he couldn't do the same to Harry. Now more than ever, he was determined that Harry would be protected…but now, it would be Harry protecting himself. He would learn what he wanted to, he would be told all that could be told without betraying trusts, and he would lead the light, just as he was destined to do.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth as he left the Headmaster's private quarters, heading out to Minerva, Severus, and Filius. Yes, he had made a realization, and this one would not cause Harry to suffer. He promised himself that.

* * *

Harry scurried about his room, straightening anything that he had left out of place, while eating a piece of toast and steeping tea. When he was sure that everything was in its correct position, and that the tea was coming along quite nicely, he sat down on his bed, thinking of the letter he received earlier this morning from Fawkes. 

_Dear Harry,_

_If you would be so kind as to meet me at your home's doorstep at 10:00 today, I have multiple things I think we should discuss. I assure you that you will not be disappointed._

_Albus Dumbledore_

It was currently 9:57, and Harry was still wondering what could have made Dumbledore want to see him so quickly after school had let out. He knew that the letter he had written was asking of some things, but he never expressed the desire to meet immediately – it wouldn't have been considerate.

Whatever the cause, he went downstairs and got to the door just as there was a knock.

Harry went through the motions of 'not knowing' the person outside the door, for the benefit of his Aunt, Uncle, and blob of a cousin. "Who is it?"

"Ah, Harry, this is Albus," was the muffled reply.

The Dursleys shot a glare at the door, and Vernon started to grow red in the face as he recalled just who 'Albus' was. He turned his glare upon Harry's back before recalling Moody's informative briefing, and just what would happen if he made trouble this summer. With an angrier, yet scared face, he turned back to the paper he had been reading.

"If you're the Headmaster, what do you see in the Mirror of Erised?" Harry asked, knowing that this was Dumbledore, but following the protocol that the Order had decided necessary.

"Some good socks," was the mirthful reply from outside.

Finally opening the door, Harry stepped aside to let in the gray-haired, wise old man who was beaming at him with a full-blown twinkle going. He walked in the door and began to speak.

"Good to see you looking well Harry, I honestly thought it would be a bit more time, but nonetheless, good to see you well."

Turning to where the Dursleys sat, he approached Vernon, holding out a hand to shake.

"Vernon, wonderful to see you again, and Petunia you too. I see your garden is just as lovely as ever. Dudley, I have a healthy supply of lemon drops if you'd fancy one, I know many of my students enjoy them."

At this comment he turned slightly to wink at Harry. Meanwhile, Dudley was walking slowly backwards, alternating between clamping his hands to his bottom, and covering his mouth. Vernon merely kept reading the paper, mumbling a 'Thank you, pleasant day, isn't it?' while paling in the face.

Petunia got up, mentioning tea and snacks, but Harry interrupted her.

"Aunt Petunia, I already have some tea going up in my room, so the Professor and I will just go up there for now, if that is alright with him."

Harry looked over to Dumbledore, who just nodded and said, "I imagine that will do nicely Harry."

Giving a small bob of his head to the general direction of the Dursleys he continued, "Vernon, Petunia."

With that, Harry and Dumbledore turned and went up the stairs to Harry's room, closing the door securely behind them. Casting a quick locking charm and silencing bubble around the room, Dumbledore sat down at Harry's desk.

"Professor, would you like a cup?" Harry asked, playing the host for a bit while wondering what was going to happen.

Dumbledore glanced at the tea over his spectacles and surveyed the room for a bit. He turned back to Harry and began speaking.

"While I would love some tea, I believe we should be more preoccupied with business, I'm sorry. If you agree, we have a meeting at Gringotts in twenty minutes, and then we need to see to some new living arrangements."

Harry stared blankly at the headmaster, trying to make sense of all the different pieces of information he gave Harry.

"Er…sir, what?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well, you may of course stay here if you'd like, but I had thought perhaps that you'd like to leave?" Dumbledore said, incessantly twinkling and arching his eyebrows.

Harry looked at Dumbledore in confusion, rapidly thinking of how every time before this summer he'd never been given the choice, "But…but, sir, what about the blood magic?"

Harry got up and began pacing his room, still mulling over what was going on. Dumbledore watched on bemusedly as Harry glanced over a couple times while shaking his head. Finally, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Harry, I imagine this will be better to discuss after our meeting at Gringotts, so let's do that first, shall we?"

Harry looked over at him, stopped pacing, and made a few connections in his mind as to why the talk would be better after Gringotts.

"I get Grimmauld Place, don't I?"

Dumbledore responded with some sadness overcoming his eyes, "I do believe Ms. Granger has rubbed off on you Harry, but yes, I can only imagine you will be receiving Grimmauld Place today. And before you ask, you didn't receive a letter from Gringotts because I told them I would personally bring you to the reading of Sirius's will."

Anger flashed through Harry's head, but was quickly pushed aside as he saw Dumbledore's face, and recognizing that Dumbledore knew that it was Harry's choice on whether to go or not; he just wanted to get things done quickly to move on.

"Well Professor, I believe we've wasted enough time on my confusion, we only have five minutes now until we need to be at Gringotts, correct?"

"Indeed Harry, we'll be traveling by portkey," at this Harry groaned, "and it will take us directly to Gringotts's front gates. If you would please place one hand on?" Pulling out a piece of parchment, Dumbledore held it out to Harry.

Harry felt a smaller tug on his navel than he remembered, and then they were at Gringotts.

* * *

Harry landed in his normal way when using a portkey – disheveled, and slightly unbalanced. Dumbledore was just a few steps ahead of him, already having gained his balance and begun walking, so Harry followed. As they entered, nothing truly extraordinary happened, or at least, not until everyone present at that time saw just who had walked in. Not only did Albus Dumbledore, the strongest wizard of the time walked in, but following him was the Boy-Who-Lived. Two of the most famous faces in all the wizarding world walked in together as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. 

Harry ignored the looks that they were both receiving and walked up to a Goblin teller with Dumbledore. Dumbledore motioned him up to the teller's window and he saw a rather familiar looking goblin. He wasn't quite sure how he knew – there were lots of goblins, after all, and many of them looked relatively the same – but he knew that this was Griphook, the first Goblin he had 'met'.

Harry, quite sure of his assessment, said, "Hello Griphook, I'm here for a will reading."

The Goblin stared back at him, with a bewildered look upon his face, and then looked over towards Dumbledore, who had an equally shocked look.

Harry looked back at Griphook, and then to Dumbledore. No one else in the bank seemed to have noticed however, as the bustle continued around them.

He looked back to Dumbledore and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

After a moment's silence, Dumbledore asked, "Harry, as far as I know, you've only been to Gringotts a few times, am I correct?"

After tallying his visits up – which Harry admitted weren't many, he said, "Yes, only a couple I believe, but what does that have to do with anything?" Getting a sudden thought in his mind, Harry asked, "I haven't insulted you Griphook, have I? If I have, I'm terribly sorry, I don't know much about my finances, and even less about Goblins…you see my History class is fairly boring and even then we mainly deal with wars…"

Before Harry could ramble on any further, Dumbledore cut in with a smile, "Harry, you've done nothing wrong, but I do believe it's shocking for you to so readily recognize Griphook. Goblins are known for being a bit tricky to identify. Even so, we should leave this for another day, as shocking as it may be, we have a lot of business to attend to, and I imagine that Griphook has his own duties."

Griphook gave a nod at this, while still looking at Harry with what could be considered awe in his eyes. "If you could prick your thumb and validate yourself on this sheet, Mr. Potter, I'd be glad to take you for your piece of the will."

Upon hearing the words 'prick' and 'validate', Harry looked at Griphook in askance, "Why do I need to prick my finger?"

Dumbledore smiled behind Harry as Griphook shook his head and replied, "We need your blood to verify that you're actually you, Mr. Potter. Your blood carries your unique signature not only for your body, but of your magic."

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry pricked his thumb upon a needle proffered by Griphook, then pressed it upon the sheet of paper. The small blood print turned blue as he pulled his thumb off, and then changed to a dark maroon before the sheet of paper burst into flames.

Harry stared where the paper used to be and asked, "Is that supposed to happen?"

Griphook looked up at Dumbledore, and then back down to Harry. "No, but let's try again with a new sheet just to make sure the magic on that piece wasn't faulty." He didn't mention that the last known case of a sheet having faulty magic cast upon it was over ninety years ago.

The same thing happened when Harry placed his thumb upon the sheet again. Slightly alarmed that they couldn't prove that it was really him, he asked, "Why isn't it working?"

Griphook sat in silence for a moment, then spoke again, "I will go get the director to look over this matter. I believe there is some interference with your magic. The blue indicates that your body signature is correct – we know this from samples taken when you were born. The maroon however, shows that your magic is not matching with what it should be."

He then stepped away from his post, and went into a back door.

After waiting for ten minutes, spent with Dumbledore reading a book he had somehow brought out of his robes, and Harry fidgeting, Griphook came back with another Goblin. This Goblin had on a fine dark gold cloak over a peat brown button up shirt and trousers. His hair was well-kempt and had the slight smell of muggle paper checks.

Upon stepping up towards the desk, he announced in a voice only slightly stuffy, "I am Director Bludrok, and if you could offer some more blood into this pot, it would be much appreciated."

As he said this, he pulled out a silver dish that had a pattern of gold laid on the outside that appeared to move as the dish did. It wasn't deep enough to be called a bowl, yet truly couldn't be called a plate either. Pan didn't seem to fit the aura of brilliance it portrayed, and so the only thing Harry could think of calling it was 'dish'.

Dumbledore's eyes glanced down at the dish and he asked Bludrok, "I wasn't aware that I would be seeing the use of Caimloku today. Do you think that it is truly that serious, Director Bludrok?"

Bludrok turned his eyes up at Dumbledore and said, "It is Mr. Potter, and his account _is_ one of our largest, so it would be a dishonor to the both of us if I used anything lesser."

Smiling at Harry's surprised face, and then placing his book back in his robes, Dumbledore simply replied, "Very well." Towards Harry he said, "Do not worry about the blood, Goblins are the keepers of the most advanced blood magic on the planet. They know what they are doing."

Still a little unnerved at the prospect of giving his blood to this…'Caimloku', as Dumbledore had called it, Harry warily pushed his thumb onto the dish only to have it light up spectacularly. Pulling his hand away, he saw liquid forming at the base of the dish, filling to almost the top of the lip. The bowl's lighting died down quite a bit, but it still shone a fair amount, and the liquid in the declined part of it was mainly a see-through black, with strikes of green jumping like electricity within. Nobody moved for a few minutes as the glow slowly faded from the dish.

As soon as the light dispersed, Bludrok began to peer into the liquid. Waving his hands over it to cause slight disruptions, he pulled a piece of parchment over and began writing. Occasionally he would glance up at Harry – particularly the scar on Harry's forehead. It seemed that the only noise that was present was the scratching of quill against paper, and mutterings in Gobbledegook, but Harry couldn't look up to see if everybody in the bank had left, or whether something else had happened. He vaguely thought it unlikely that everyone else had left, but couldn't quite place what could have happened to create such a silence.

After a time that seemed infinite, Bludrok stopped his glare into the black liquid, and set down his quill. He then turned to Griphook, and gave an order in a soft and wondered tone. Harry, still absorbed by the liquid, gave a start when he realized that the Goblin no longer was speaking of the liquid.

Leaning forward on his elbows and grasping his hands together, Bludrok now stared into Harry's eyes as he spoke.

"Mr. Potter, I believe I have found the problem. Please listen to the explanation I have before asking questions, as the situation we have discovered is something quite rare. I would ask the same of you, Mr. Dumbledore."

The Headmaster nodded at this, even though his face clearly showed the desire to ask what had happened – a look Harry couldn't remember seeing Dumbledore have before.

"First, we shall start with some background about the device before you. Caimloku is an ancient artifact that my ancestors created near a thousand years ago. Three hundred lives, all magical Goblins, were sacrificed in her creation. This was during a time of warring between Goblin clans – where curses upon our magic was commonplace, and we needed a device that would show whether somebody was afflicted by such a curse or not. You see, we can remove almost any curse from an object or magic, but first we need to identify it. Within the dish, each curse has its own unique trail, much like each spell you see has its own distinct aura. When your magic signature was disrupted so much that we could not verify it, Griphook had the right thought in thinking that you had been cursed powerfully. What I am seeing in Caimloku proves that. I have come across a number of curses in my considerable lifetime, and have never seen either of these. One, because it is so rare, and the other, because no living thing should have it."

Bludrok gave a moment for his rather lengthy introduction to sink in.

"The first curse really isn't considered a curse when used as magic, but pertaining to blood magic properties it is. It does not actually affect our verification process, because of the relation you had to the caster. I believe that this curse would be protection by a parent cast upon you. As I do not know the specifics of how it was cast and such, and as I don't need to know, I will not dig further. Normally, it wouldn't be causing a problem, but that brings us to the second curse."

Harry nodded, already knowing what curse 'no living thing should have' was.

"The Killing Curse has a very unique signature. We only have records of it because the ministry once thought that perhaps they could protect against it through blood. They were wrong, but their error has given you great fortune today. This curse seems to have interacted with the other I mentioned. The coverage of the familial blood magic is very little, which suggests to me that it has both been eaten away by the Killing Curse, and weakened by time. It would easily take me the flick of my finger to rid you of it. The Killing Curse, however, has remained incredibly strong over the years. I believe this is because magic has been feeding it all this time. Mr. Potter, I will be blunt. If you had not come in here and needed to have you blood verified for this will, you most likely would have died in two years time, after having your magic weaken significantly during the last year. Your magic has been feeding the curse."

Harry tried to make a comment on this, but found that even though he wanted to break his agreement to not speak before Bludrok was done, he couldn't do to the shock he felt. Dumbledore had a brief flash of worry and surprise flash across his face before masking it.

"Now for the good, although bittersweet, news. I am able to remove the curse from you. There will be a price though. Because of how the bonding of the familial magic works, it has been pulled along in with the Killing Curse, and will have to be removed along with the Killing Curse in order to rid yourself of it in its entirety. If you do not, you need not fear your life for another twelve or so years, but I will not be able to break the block on your magic."

At the word 'block' Harry's ears perked up. The prophecy Sirius had mentioned said something about 'unblocked' powers. Bludrok seemed to sense his burning urge to ask the question and said, "Questions are now welcome."

Immediately, Harry asked, "What is this block on my magic, and how will removing these curses remove it. Also, would doing this damage my ability to use magic in any way?"

Bludrok smiled a bit before answering the questions, having seen the Headmaster nod at each point Harry made.

"The block is caused by the curse feeding on your magic. It is like a leech pulling away power from you, so that it may survive and grow stronger. Furthermore, you wouldn't have been affected near as much as you have been if it weren't for the fact that your magic needs to constantly defend against this curse. Initially, the first casting of the curse itself diverted much of your magic to defense. Over the ten years you had until you started Hogwarts, the diversion of your magic increased. As Headmaster Dumbledore can attest to, magical books are more easily read and spell casting is more easily caught on to when a greater amount of magic is available to the Wizard or Witch. This is due to the nature of the magic reacting to the magical theory. What is little known – mainly because of how lost blood magic theory is, is that the magic directly learns the theory through the magical properties of the book – thus the stronger 'pool' if you will of magic will need less time to accumulate the theory. I imagine that as your schooling has gone along, it has been harder and harder to learn spells."

At Harry's nod he continued.

"While I don't doubt there have been other factors that have influence that ability, I would suggest that it is predominantly not your fault. If I'm not mistaken, you are moving into sixth year at this point. I believe it would be wise to contest your OWL results regardless of what they are, and offer the fact that you were under the strain of a curse as reasoning. Your performance, no matter how good, will be astronomically better if you choose to open this blockade."

Harry broke in at this point, asking, "My Defense Against the Dark Arts abilities and grades have always been fairly good though, so doesn't that disprove this theory?"

"I do believe that the fact your magic has been focused on little else besides fighting the strongest Dark Art there is for the past fifteen or so years would contest to that. Now, as for your second question, after removing these curses, my estimates sit at having you recovering your full magic within one week. I would like to point out that if any other Witch or Wizard had this similar experience, they would already be five years dead. If we had been able to remove it from them even before their death, it would take little more than one day to have them recover. This is not a slight to your abilities, but rather, a compliment," Bludrok replied without missing a beat.

Processing what he'd been hearing the last ten minutes, Harry started to ask just how it was a compliment when Dumbledore stepped in.

"Harry, I have seen Caimloku work twice before, each time on a rather…average…wizard whom had a little extra money and thought it would be fun to request her use. The light she gave off upon them lasted a mere three seconds. The light you caused Caimloku to project lasted around four _minutes_. When Caimloku is casting her light, she is measuring your powers. I believe the difference in your powers with regards to the average Wizard would be about the difference between a liter jug and a muggle petrol transport vehicle."

Bludrok nodded before adding in, "It will take you longer to recuperate such a large amount of magical energy. As for your last question, not only would there be no harm to your ability to cast magic as I think you've figured out, and not only would you be able to learn your materials at above the average level, but your bloodlines natural talents would finally show too. From what I can tell, in your bloodline through you parents, you come directly from at least one Animagus, although it could possibly be two, and the ancestors you draw from on one side of your family have almost all been Animagi. This has a significant impact upon your Transfiguration ability as you might imagine. Also, due to the fact that you have had a charm – your familial blood curse – so closely intertwined with your magic for so long, some affinity towards Charm type magic would appear to be likely. As you have a large boost in defending against Dark attacks from the proximity to the curse, your magic has already had a long time to form itself into a resistance against Dark Magic. If my assumptions are correct, because many remaining classes at Hogwarts are only able to be learned, and not have garnered from blood-magic ties, you will find yourself doing well even with the setback of not being able to study properly for some time."

Harry could only stare vacantly at the Director after finally hearing the end of all he was told. Only realizing that he had stood up at some point in the entire discussion and started pacing after Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder, Harry tried to sit back in the chair he had taken earlier while shaking. He soon learned that this wasn't a good idea, as the shaking through off his perception of where the chair was. He ended up landing on the hard marble floor, with a laughing Headmaster and grinning Director looking at him. He tried to get up with as much dignity as possible, and brush himself off before sitting down, but he began laughing too; perhaps for different reasons than the other two, but laughing nonetheless. He was still awed at all he had heard, but with his laughter relieving the stress of the situation, he found himself smiling at the thought of feeling his 'true' power. Just before agreeing to have the procedure done in its entirety, he realized he had forgotten one thing. His face turned crestfallen, and he looked at Dumbledore.

"I imagine that I should not have my blood protection removed, Professor?" he asked, in a voice that betrayed his reluctance. The answer he received, however, was one that he should have expected had he been thinking completely.

"Well, Harry, I hardly imagine it matters if you won't be living at Privet Drive after today."

He turned to see a grinning Dumbledore and eyes that were now sparkling rather than twinkling. The old man seemed at least fifty years younger as his eyes showed just how much he wanted to see Harry's 'true' power.

While seeming to barely think about the circumstances, Harry thought about a multitude of things while making the turn back to Director Bludrok. As the curse being lift from him was the most serious that could be inflicted, he knew there would be a lot of risk involved for Bludrok, and also knew that such a thing was important enough to his life to warrant a hefty payment. Thinking about what he'd heard about Goblins, from Hermione of course, during her comparisons of them to the House-elves, and the fact that they were so powerful in Blood Magic, Harry decided upon an appropriate payment. One that after dealing with Bludrok, he felt happy to give.

Harry came back to the now serious face of Bludrok and stated, "In that case, I would ask you to perform this cleansing on me, and would also like to offer to you a trade for this extraordinary service. Even if you would have me not pay you, I think you may reconsider when you hear what I am offering." Steeling himself for the payment, Harry stood and then bent slightly at the waist as he had seen the illustrations do in his History book. (they were the most interesting part, anyway)

"I, Harry James Potter, give to you my Oath as a Wizard, to seek the inclusion of Goblinkind among the fully instated Wizengamot, the Ministry of Magic, and the entirety of the Wizarding world, along your own allied magical creatures, as long as they do hold the intellect to discuss and arrive at decisions fairly. As symbol of this promise, I offer a Blood Pact after the cleansing, so as to bind our races together physically as well as symbolically."

While he hadn't really thought the words that had come out of his mouth – a traditionally given Wizard's Oath bound a spell upon the Wizard who was speaking it to speak only with great import – Harry had to admit that they had a certain flair that his "I'll help you and the other Goblins become a part of Wizard society, along with your friends, and want you to use my blood as part of this promise," didn't.

With the start of the Wizard's Oath, Bludrok had closed his eyes. At the end, Harry could have sworn there was a tear coming out of his eye. Without another word, Bludrok stared at Harry for a moment, nodded his head solemnly, and snapped his fingers. Behind Harry, Dumbledore was awed at the depth of the offer Harry had just offered Bludrok. He had known the strong sense of righteousness that Harry possessed, but he hadn't known just how deeply he was committed to those whom he was grateful to. His eyes also had tears in them, but because of the display of maturity the young man he had watched grow up now showed. After receiving the heartfelt apology for the destruction of his office space along with Harry's request for help, he knew the young man in front of him would grow to be an extraordinary wizard and gentleman.

* * *

A half dozen Goblins came to Bludrok after the snap of his fingers, lead by Griphook, whom because of the fact that he was the one to bring this to the attention of the Director, was in extreme favor right now. They began to draw a large circle of liquid similar to what was in Caimloku right now around Harry and Bludrok. Upon their own bodies they traced multiple runes, and then did the same to Harry. Bludrok dipped his hands into the liquid within Caimloku and drew the same runes upon himself, along with many more complicated designs. The Goblins who had been drawing the circle and runes sat themselves on the circle's lines and started a low, humming chant in Gobbledegook. 

Harry felt a tingling began to spread from his heart. As it passed through his body, he felt lighter than air, even though he remained firmly in his chair. Bludrok began a higher chant, while pressing his small fingers against the runes paint upon himself before. Caimloku again flared into a brilliant light, and the liquid remaining in her flowed out, connecting Harry and Bludrok's foreheads in a stream of black and green fluid.

Now a separate, euphoric, tingling began from where the fluid touched his head, causing chills of happiness to go down his spine. He became slightly alarmed as the fluid began to writhe in the center point between the Director and himself, but saw the look of concentration on Bludrok's face and was reassured in the thought that he knew what he was doing. A slight pressure started to come next, from his heart again, as though all the blood in his body were being pulled out from that central point. Along with the pressure came another change in the liquid. The green streaks in it started to shorten, some disappearing entirely. This process continued as the pressure strengthened in his chest. When if finally got to the point of feeling almost painful, the green streaks were gone, and the black liquid began fading to a clear white color. The pressure stayed, but began to recede now. Once the liquid turned white, it separated from his forehead and began to flow back into Caimloku. Bludrok lowered the volume of his chanting slowly, and stopped altogether once the liquid was completely contained again. The runes on his body were gone. The outer circle of Goblins began to lower their chant too, and the tingling sensations left Harry. The chanting stopped, and then Bludrok fell back in his chair.

As if snapped out of a trance, the other Goblins fell back where they sat. Worried about the safety of them, Harry began, "Bludrok!" but was interrupted almost instantly when he started speaking.

"I am glad that this worked properly the first time. If you would allow me to rest a moment before we continue on, that would be wonderful."

The Goblins surrounding them were already getting back up tiredly and cleaning the runes off of Harry's body, and their own. A slight char was visible on the floor where the circle had been. A quick couple sweeps from a hand cause all the charring to disappear. The only evidence left of the entire ritual was the white liquid in Caimloku in front of them. Bludrok slowly sat up, looked Harry in the eyes, and smiled widely. His white, sharp teeth were fully exposed, but he looked absolutely gleeful.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I believe that we have some business to take care of. I would be most honored to take care of the matter of your will reading before we continue with your Oath, but it is most ultimately your decision."

Harry didn't even have to think as he stated, "No, I will fulfill my promise before my personal matters. I think it would be only proper after the enormous amount of effort you and your staff just exhibited."

Another Goblin came up carrying a gleaning sliver of a knife, with the handle of it only being a rounded part of the blade. Bludrok fished out a vial the size of Harry's pinky and handed it to the Goblin. Harry dutifully rolled up his sleeve and offered his arm to the Goblin with the knife. The Goblin bowed slightly and placed the vial next to Harry's arm. With a quick motion, a deep cut was made and blood freely fell into the expertly placed vial. When it was full, the goblin ran the blade was again over Harry's cut and it was sealed. Grinning at Harry, he placed a stopper upon the vial and handed it to Bludrok. Bludrok placed a spell over it, and then gave instructions to Griphook behind him. Griphook grabbed the vial, walked to the center of Gringotts where customers were standing upon the bank's runic symbol. He shooed them off of it, and then gently removed the stopper. Pouring the blood slowly over the symbol, he chanted quietly. As soon as the last drop of the blood fell upon the floor, it was absorbed into every piece of the rune. The whole bank seemed to shift, and suddenly a wave pulsed from the rune. Those outside the bank could see its protective shielding become visible for a moment, while those on the inside witnessed the change of everything Gringotts. The floors became shinier, the walls sturdier, everything more _gold_. The bank itself seemed to have perked up after the rune absorbed Harry's blood.

Bludrok said, with a tone of gratitude, "It would have taken us twenty days of spellcasting, seven quarts of freely given Dragon's blood, and forty-two thousand, nine hundred, thirty-three galleons to do what you have just done to the bank, Mr. Potter. I am suspect to believe that as Mr. Dumbledore stated, you are to average Wizards as 'a liter is to a muggle petrol transportation vehicle.' You have my and the entire banks gratitude. Now, I believe you came here for a will reading. If you could press your thumb against this piece of paper once more, we will begin."

Holding out a third copy of the paper that started this entire day, he smiled at Harry. Not knowing what else to do after seeing what his blood had done to the bank, Harry simply pressed his thumb to the parchment. The small print turned blue, green, and then gold. The parchment rolled itself, flipped into the air, and made a loud pop before disappearing.

Bludrok looked pleased and said, "Let us get on with business, shall we?"

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**Ending Note:** How are you liking it? Feedback is greatly welcome. I hope to have the next chapter out within the week. Doreedo


	2. Wills and Perspectives

**Author's note: **Wow! I never expected such a large amount of reviews on my first chapter! Thanks to all who did! I'd like to say that those reviews really made me want to write this next chapter, and that they do help motivate me to give the story lots of thought. I've spent the last couple days thinking about where I wanted this chapter to go, and it's thanks to all of you. I'd like to point out that the opinions expressed by Hermione in this chapter about herself aren't how I see her - they're just her inner insecurities. (Which will soon be rectified) I hope everyone enjoys this chapter too!

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**Previously:**_  
_

_Holding out a third copy of the paper that started this entire day, he smiled at Harry. Not knowing what else to do after seeing what his blood had done to the bank, Harry simply pressed his thumb to the parchment. The small print turned blue, green, and then gold. The parchment rolled itself, flipped into the air, and made a loud pop before disappearing._

_Bludrok looked pleased and said, "Let us get on with business, shall we?"_

**

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**Chapter Two: Wills and Perspectives**

"I think, Mr. Potter that we should move to a more private location. Mr. Black's will may prove slightly disruptive to the other patrons…if you could please follow me."

Without looking back towards Harry, Bludrok stood up from his high-backed chair, and marched over towards the newly waxed, mahogany door in the back of the bank. Above the door read, "Gringotts Director's Office: Bludrok". Stumbling to his feet, Harry turned around towards his Headmaster and asked in a voice that was perhaps still a little awed about everything that had taken place, "Shall we then?"

Without further provoking, they both stepped towards the door, flanked by two Goblins on either side of them. Stepping into the rich office, Harry could only think that this summer, regardless of whether it was better or not, was definitely going to be a lot more interesting than all that had come to pass yet.

**

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**

Hermione Granger sat up in her bed. The clock next to her fervently declared the time to be 11:30 in the morning, a time that would usually frustrate her – when you're used to waking up before everyone in the house, having half your day slept away does that to you. Today though, she only had one thing on her mind. Harry.

His letter was incredibly long for what he normally would say. For the most part, if he could say something in a few short paragraphs, he would. The fact that he mentioned that he was _running out_ of parchment to write on, but still wrote a good couple feet to her, proved how out-of-character he was acting. While the letter itself relieved her greatly, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head. Getting out of bed and stretching silently, she continued to mull over this sudden change. Just as she was gathering her clothes for the day, a large Eastern Grass Owl landed on her sill, bearing a black envelope with the Gringotts crest sealing it. Regarding her for a moment, and finally verifying that she was the mail's recipient, it jumped off the sill and quickly glided onto her shoulder. Hermione sighed, looking at the letter out of the corner of her sienna eyes. The only thing she could be getting from Gringotts would be notification about her part of Sirius's will.

Dislodging the finely cleaned owl from her shoulder, she set it upon the perch that Hedwig was sleeping on. As she did so, Hedwig lazily opened her eyes to take a glance at the other owl, and after determining it to be non-threatening, went back to sleep. Hermione began untying the letter from the owl's talon, and then set it on her bedside table.

She said to the owl softly as she left for her shower, "You can have some food and water if you'd like before you leave. I'm sure Hedwig won't mind sharing."

Walking down the oak floored hallway in her morning slippers, Hermione glanced at the pictures she had hanging just outside her room. Quite a few pictures of Harry, Ron and her hung, along with a picture of Harry walking around the lake with her during their fourth year. It was the only wizarding picture that currently hung, and she was always loathe to replace it when her muggle family came over. At some point during their walks, Colin Creevey had caught on to their pattern and began waiting for the 'perfect picture moment'. His waiting paid off when one day Hermione and Harry had just come back from a rather vigorous Care of Magical Creatures class. Harry had leaned over to her during their walk and silently pushed a strand of hair back over her ear, not realizing how awkward the whole position was. Colin had chosen that exact moment to take the picture, so now she had a memento of how kind and at peace his face looked in that moment. She hadn't seen the picture do much else besides have her hair pushed back, but it didn't matter that it wasn't a particularly active wizarding photo. It was a moment in her life that she felt was entirely perfect. With a soft sigh, she continued into the forest green bathroom, shut the door, and began preparing for her day.

Outside in the hallway, the picture Harry leaned over to the picture Hermione, and gently wrapped one arm around her shoulders. They continued walking around the lake like that for quite some time, until the shower turned off a quarter hour later.

**

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**

Ron Weasley was woken by the shouting of his mum to, "Get your lazy self down to de-Gnome the garden, or there won't be any food for you tonight." While noon was a little earlier than he would have liked to have been woken up, the threat of not having food that night was too horrible to imagine for him to risk it. He couldn't believe that on his second day home from school – really his first _full_ day home from school – he was already being put to work, but since the healers had told his mum that no lasting damage was done by his night at the Ministry, there would be no rest.

Thinking back to that night, he shuddered at the thought of how it almost went _very_ wrong. It wasn't that he blamed his best mate, really. Well, not entirely. He _had_ been quite a prat when Hermione had been explaining how he should make sure that the vision was real, _and_ had managed to get all six of them rather injured, never mind the fact that they all chose to go. Really, though, he wasn't too sore at his best mate, even if he felt that it wasn't such a good idea to go in the first place. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that he had gotten attacked by the brain thing, he'd be positively glowing with all the attention he was receiving. As it was, even while being attacked by it, he was pretty happy at the amount of fan mail he'd been receiving once the early edition of the Prophet had shown up. Dumbledore had made official statements regarding the evening, and it had been said that somehow Harry had been notified at the last minute of an attack on the Ministry. No clear details were given out, but the six whom had shown up that night were being heralded as 'saviors', and as proof the Death Eaters captured at that time were shown.

All in all, it wasn't a bad trade-off for getting all the offers of dates. At least thirty owls had come in yesterday offering to meet him for lunch some time, or perhaps for a dinner. If all it took to get on his mum's good side so that he could go on some of those dates was a little de-Gnoming, who was he to fight fate?

Whistling a merry tune as he clomped down the stairs to grab a bite of toast before heading out to de-Gnome in his pajamas, he noticed a few black envelopes lying on the dining table.

After looking at the seal and seeing the Gringotts mark on them, he shouted out, "Mum, what are these letters for?"

A slight huff was heard from the kitchen as she walked into the room. "Honestly, Ronald, I'm only in the kitchen, there's no need to be so loud. And for your information, I'm not sure what those envelopes are about, we've only just received them, and they are addressed to you, Ginny, Fred, and George. I hope you four haven't done anything illegal."

Ron internally grimaced, he was sure he'd done _something_ illegal before, but he didn't think it would involve Gringotts. Slouching down into a chair, he started to open his letter. A short while later, a look of shock was on his face. He felt a little down at why he'd received this letter, but overall, a sense of happiness was filling him. He couldn't help but think that finally, things were going his way.

**

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**

Remus Lupin was drunk. There was no nice way to put it. He'd sat in Grimmauld place the last two weeks downing Firewhiskey like water, and had rampaged inside the house during one hung-over full moon. The only people that had visited him were the Headmaster and Tonks – he wryly thought that they had only shown up so that he didn't break the whole dreadful house down. Somewhere between his fourth and twentieth shot of alcohol, and breakfast and lunch, he'd received a little leather package. He couldn't quite remember whether it was closer to the fourth or the twentieth, but he could be fairly certain it was between those two numbers. On a drunken whim he opened the package, only to have a horrid sobering spell cast on him with the opening. Cursing the insufferable moron who'd set up such a vile trap, he started to read the enchanted paper. As he saw the writing on the paper, he started crying, but couldn't stop reading. By then end of the parchment he was laughing hysterically.

Inside the package was a sack full of coins with the text 'July Seventh to July Twenty-First' written upon the bag. Upon careful inspection thirty Galleons could be made out in the felt-lined pouch. Remus continued laughing as he started up a chart with two-week date ranges on it, spanning one year's time. Not even the arrival of a black envelope via Gringotts's owl could break his mood, and he set about fixing the house from his drunken stupor after hiding away the marked parchment and sack of coins. Smiling for the first time in weeks, he set out his finest robes for the next day after repairing the bottom floor of the house, and smirked as he thought of the reactions the paper he'd hidden would receive. He was certain that somewhere in the veil hidden in the Department of Mysteries; a conniving black dog was laughing its head off in anticipation.

On the piece of marked parchment, under the time period marked 'July Seventh to July Twenty-First', was the name Sirius Black.

**

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**

Harry stared a moment at the wood paneled office walls, or rather, the pictures that lined them. Many of the previous Gringotts Directors smirked back at him, although they too seemed to have noticed the change in the bank, and automatically supplied him as the source.

Director Bludrok was currently sitting behind a _much_ larger desk than they had previously been at. His chair was what one could imagine a king's to be like – gaudy, tall, and imposing. The Dragon skin seat was dyed a dark red, almost blood colored, and a silvery metal frame surrounded it. The frame itself had magical beasts carved onto its entirety. Upon the desk's top were a large Hippogriff feather quill and a single packet of documents, all neatly bound by a single strand of twine. In front of the desk were two chairs, far less gaudy than the Director's, arranged to face the desk.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Dumbledore, if you could take a seat this will only take another ten minutes if you have no objections."

Harry was brought out of his speculative gazing at the room by Bludrok's semi-tired voice, and followed Dumbledore to the chairs in front of the desk.

"Now, our business here is merely your private part of the will, Mr. Potter. It includes a property, the turning over of the Potter trust, which also includes a property and options for more properties, a private account, and a decree of magical liability class A, form type 3. Are there any questions before we begin the signing?" Bludrok said all of this rather quickly, and then looked up from the papers towards Harry.

Having followed everything up until the decree of whats-its, Harry voiced that sole question, "Sir, what is the decree you were speaking of?"

Before Bludrok could speak, Dumbledore cut in, "Harry, let us first deal with other matters, and then we will move on to the decree. I can only imagine you will be unable to focus for some time after it." He then peered over his spectacles, and once again Harry noticed his eyes held a bright twinkle.

_Well, he seems to have gotten over his surprise_, was the first thought Harry had. Instead of voicing his humorous thought, he instead said, "Ok Professor, since this shouldn't take long that will be fine."

Bludrok began speaking, and as he advanced through each item spread out a multitude of papers. "First is the property from Mr. Black, his instructions are to not say the location aloud, but notify you of your inheritance of it. He trusts you know where it is at. Secondly, is the Potter Trust. This is the fund that he was to watch over for you until such a time as he felt you should receive it, up to your seventeenth birthday. He has chosen to turn it over to you upon his death if you have not reached that age yet. With this Trust, there is one property deeded, referred to as Godric's Hollow, and another two properties which may be kept if desired. If not, the assets will be liquidated immediately and Gringotts will resell the properties to buyers whom have already expressed desire in them. Those properties are; one plot of land and a structure upon Hogsmeade known by the name 'The Shrieking Shack', and one plot of land adjacent to Godric's Hollow, which is predominantly forest. Do you wish to keep the properties? Check yes or no to each when signing this one. After that, we have an account opened which contains all Black and Potter familial items, and magical artifacts which were specified to be held outside the public will by Mr. Black. The estimated value of these items is nearing nine hundred-thousand galleons. These items may not be liquidated by Gringotts. Finally, we have the decree of magical liability class A, form 3, which states that he declares you his legal heir in addition to an official Black. While your name will not change, you shall inherit legally the ancestral titles associated with the Blacks. These titles truly mean little in today's society, but one thing that the titles confer upon you is a mandated freeing of restraint from your full Wizard status. In other words, you have been what the muggle world calls 'emancipated', and may manage your finances and perform magic as you see fit. I am only lacking the signature of a Wizengamot member to verify this document, and Mr. Black has offered that Mr. Dumbledore, whom is present today, will facilitate such a signing. Once you have been declared a full Wizard, you shall also inherit your own family's titles, which have little bearing on _normal_ Wizarding society today, but do have influence within governmental facilities. I believe at the very least they will prove useful in the negotiation of services and/or endorsements you may be making in the future."

Once again Harry was rendered speechless as the final paper was laid in front of him. The previous papers were all easily signed – he decided that if the properties were in demand before the will was executed, he could always sell them later if he didn't like them, but he hadn't quite been expecting the final bit. And titles…what use did he have for another title, let alone a group of them? Although, they did let him use magic…

At that thought his head snapped up to Dumbledore, who had a large grin on his face. The eyes staring back at him couldn't be seen through the lightshow the twinkles were putting on within them.

Dumbledore coughed lightly and then said, "Harry, if you could sign the final paper and please pass it to me, I do believe that I'm needed for that one."

Harry numbly did as he was told, and watched as the documents were gathered up by Bludrok's assistants. A short 'good day' was given by Bludrok, and then he was being ushered out of the office by Dumbledore. Still in a daze, he asked to be taken down to his vault, only to be asked which one. He just nodded his head as Dumbledore pulled the key from his hand and told the Goblin which vault was necessary.

The trip down and back seemed to take a second, and the weight of gold in his bag didn't seem to be there as he exited the bank. Once the light from outside brought him from his daze, he could only mumble, "Magic…I…magic."

Dumbledore, chuckling at the muttering mess Harry had been reduced to said, "Perhaps a simple Lumos would help you see that it's true?"

Harry jumped at the suggestion and fumbled to get his wand out of his back pocket. Suddenly gleeful, he smiled widely as he held a trembling hand out.

A quick breath and then, "Lumos!"

It was a healthy half past noon in Diagon Alley at that time, and even the sun's light seemed dim in comparison to Harry's light spell. For a good ten seconds, people did not have shadows, and a heatless light filled the road. Muttering "Nox", Harry put his wand down. At least, he put what was left of his wand down, for the entire last half of his wand had been blown apart, magically disintegrating into nothing. The tip of a Phoenix feather was just visible poking out from the remaining half. Staring at his wand for quite a long time, he finally turned to Dumbledore.

"Er…Professor?"

The simple response came, "Yes, Harry?"

"My wand just blew up. Or rather, _part _of it blew up," Was Harry's less-than-simple response.

The Headmaster looked over at his maturing student, still shocked a bit himself, and replied, "Indeed it has. I imagine now would be a good time to go to Ollivander's."

Again Harry sat stunned for a while, and then finally started moving towards Ollivander's. "You're probably right," he called over his shoulder, not needing to wait for Dumbledore to start following, as he already had begun.

**

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**

Stepping out of the shower and pulling her bath towel around herself, Hermione started to brush out her hair. Staring at the reflection she found in the mirror, she grabbed the blow dryer that she had set out beforehand and plugged it in. While working her hair dry, she thought about the appearance of the girl she saw in the mirror.

_I don't look much like a sixteen year old. Look at that small chest. There's barely anything there! I'm short enough to be mistaken as still thirteen, and my hair is this horrid bushy mess. I'm so pasty from sitting in the library all day that it's a wonder I'm not mistaken for a ghost._

Shaking the negative thoughts out of her head, she stood for another twelve minutes in silence – both externally and internally – finishing the drying of her hair. As she was putting away the dryer, her towel slipped a bit and she looked down to readjust it. Seeing the small scar between her non-existent mounds that would be removed after the last of her recovery potion, she thought back to the Department of Mysteries, and stopped moving. The smallest amount of that day made her feel bad. She couldn't help thinking that perhaps, if she had been better, if she hadn't been so stupid as to get injured so quickly, perhaps Sirius wouldn't have died. Perhaps Harry wouldn't have had to go through the pain of losing his Godfather.

Rubbing tears out of her eyes, she turned to the medicine cabinet for the final bit of potion, and saw a miniscule scar reflected in the mirror. Gasping at its shape, she traced the pattern with a finger. Slowly, she opened the medicine cabinet up and pulled out the bottle of liquid. Uncorking it, she stood still, thinking for a brief second before dumping it down the sink. She didn't want to remember that day every time she looked at herself, but anything that could connect her to Harry was perhaps worth it. She quickly brushed her teeth and then left for her bedroom.

Grabbing the clothes she had previously lain out and starting to pull on her undergarments, she tried to figure out exactly when she had begun to have these feelings for him. It wasn't easy to place, whenever she looked back on one of his beautiful grins she thought that that may be it, but then again, there were the times where he proved so loyal to his friends – fiercely so – that she thought those may be it too. The only sure thing she could think was that it just wasn't fair to make her try and pick a time, so she wouldn't.

Hoping to stop her thoughts on this matter for today, and perhaps move on to more cheery things – not that Harry wasn't cheery, but she really didn't have any chance if she told him how she felt. She was the ugly, bookish best friend after all. Sitting down to read the Gringotts letter, she pulled on her shirt.

As her shirt was sliding over her head, and finally settled in its needed place, the small reverse lightening bolt scar disappeared underneath it.

**

* * *

**

Harry found himself getting used to the feeling of walking somewhere in shock. He'd done it what seemed to be a million times today, and well, the day was only half done. Opening the old door to Ollivander's, Harry took a breath of the wood and polish air that swept out, then stepped in.

The shop hadn't changed much from the first time Harry had set foot in it, boxes were all over, some of them precariously stacked. It seemed as though even right after the end of term Ollivander either didn't clean up the boxes, or maintained a steady supply of customers.

"Mr. Potter, how interesting to see you here…I do hope you've been maintaining your wand properly?"

Ollivander's voice jumped out at him from the left of the shop, and he similarly jumped. Not knowing what else to say, Harry started with, "Well, I _had_ been caring for it properly sir, but just today I cast a Lumos spell – right out in Diagon Alley actually, it's a long story – and this happened."

Pulling out what was left of his wand, Harry began to fidget nervously. He had seen how incredibly jumpy Ollivander could get on even the slightest scratch upon a wand. This was decidedly more than just a scratch. A hand was placed on Harry's shoulder and he turned to remember that the Headmaster had entered along with him. Dumbledore seemed to be basking in the shop's ambience as he turned towards Ollivander.

"It's wonderful to see the most respected wand-maker at work, as always, sir," Dumbledore politely said.

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly. It was the first time he'd ever heard Dumbledore call _anybody_ sir. Perhaps Ollivander was a bit better than he thought…

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by Ollivander's voice asking, "Ah, Albus, it seems that Harry's magic has changed rather suddenly. His wand couldn't quite take the stress. Do you have a clue as to what we should do?"

"I believe you'll have to do something similar to the fantastic work you've done on my wand?" Was the reply he received from Dumbledore.

Harry tried to figure out whether he wanted to go anywhere else today, lest he get surprises like this all over town. Perhaps it was just better to go back to the Dursleys and…oh! He didn't have to go back to the Dursleys, that was right. Chock another up to the shock column.

"Well, Albus, I wouldn't quite call it a wand, but yes, the same thing will be done. Mr. Potter, if you could please follow me to the back room. Seeing as how I've not yet had an owl disturb my shop, I can only imagine that you are using magic legally, and so this won't be a problem."

Following Ollivander to a part of his shop that Harry had never seen before, Harry just nodded mutely.

"Very well, here we are. Let me extract the core from your old wand, it will only take a moment." Using a pair of very fine tweezers to work the Phoenix feather out of Harry's wand, Ollivander turned back to Harry and said, "Now, if you could hold your and on each piece of wood I have lined up over on that shelf and say 'Virga Invenio', we'll see what I have to work with."

Harry did as he was told, walking over to a line of twenty different shades of wood, all about four feet long. Starting on the far left of the line, with a dark, almost black, wood, he said, "Virga Invenio!"

The piece of wood shuddered, then split apart.

"How very interesting…I do not believe you'll need to try that again over there Mr. Potter. If you could follow me to yet another room."

Confused as to how Ollivander could say that without having him test any other pieces of wood, he nevertheless followed the man into a dark, poorly lit room. It seemed like it hadn't been swept in ages.

"Now, please do the same thing with these pieces of…material."

Getting slightly annoyed, Harry walked up again to the first on the left and said, "Virga Invenio!"

This time the 'material' shuddered but stayed whole. Not hearing a signal to stop, he continued to the next piece, and after seeing a similar thing happen, moved down the line. Two pieces from the last, the 'material' finally reacted differently, which seemed to be what Ollivander was looking for. Considering that after the words were said, the four foot long piece flew into Harry's hands, he hoped that it was a good sign.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, how brilliant. A lovely choice if I do say so myself, quite a nice fusion of platinum and oak. Here is your Phoenix feather, if you could hold it in your hand for a few moments we can move on to the next step."

Doing as he was told, Harry took the feather from Ollivander's hands. A strange sensation washed over him as he did, and suddenly to feather sunk into the hand that had been holding it. Too used to surprises by now to jump into 'shocked Harry' mode, he merely said, "Mr. Ollivander, I do believe that my feather is currently in my hand."

Ollivander looked over closely at Harry's opened palm and replied, "Wonderful, much quicker than I thought, we can continue now. Place the hand that has just acquired the feather upon the top of the material now, if you would. Splendid, now say the words I'm sure you've grown tired of by now one more time."

After saying another 'Virga Invenio', Harry witnessed a shiny metal substance flow all over the surface of the material. His hand was slowly forced up by a bulge at the top. As suddenly as the metal expanded around the whole length of material, it seemed to be absorbed into the top and bottom tips, and Harry realized now that the whole thing had shifted into something looking very much like an overgrown wand that had a bump at the top. As the absorption stopped, he was left holding a staff, with miniscule silver runes shimmering randomly on its surface, and two metallic ends. At the bottom, a slowly tapered end, and at the top, a metal cradle, that seemed to begging him to cast a spell.

Even as Ollivander was telling him to cast a simple spell, Harry was saying the word 'Lumos' – the one who'd started it all. Instead of the spell being cast though, the top of the staff gained a ball of not-quite-light. Thinking that he had merely thought of light coming out the wrong end of the staff, he was preparing to say it again when the not-quite-light solidified. A clear grey stone, which rippled like a liquid when the staff was moved, appeared.

Ollivander looked fairly pleased. He said, "Now, it's a shame to make such a beautiful staff disappear, but I believe that currently you'd like it to be a wand. If you would just think of it as wand-sized, you'll see…"

He cut off as the staff had already changed into its wand form at Harry's thought. The silvery runes now were reduced to making the wood shine in the light, and the platinum caps just seemed to flow with the natural body of the wand.

Harry was startled as Dumbledore's voice came from behind him, "Yes, well, I believe that we're done at Diagon Alley for today, Harry. If you could please pay Mr. Ollivander so that we can continue on with the other important business I wished to discuss with you?"

Depositing the number of galleons Ollivander requested for the materials – a staggering fifty – Harry and Dumbledore headed out the door, and to the Leaky Cauldron. Before entering into the gateway to the muggle world, Dumbledore picked up a rock and muttered 'Portus'. Harry reached out and touched it, and was tugged away along with Dumbledore. Back to his room at Number Four.

**

* * *

**

"Before you say anything Harry, I just thought that you may like to gather your belongings before we left. While I wasn't quite expecting the whole performance at Gringotts, nor having to visit Ollivander's, I was planning on taking you to Grimmauld Place anyway. I believe that even if your blood wards had not been removed, you are responsible enough now to take some measure of your safety into your own hands. I'll just go speak with your aunt and uncle, to let them know of your departure."

Dumbledore said all of this very quietly and deliberately, in a calm tone, even though starting off mentioning Gringotts and Ollivander's gave his eyes an excited look inside them. Swiftly retreating out Harry's bedroom door, he walked quietly down the stairs, heading towards where Petunia was seated.

Harry, on the other hand, jumped right over to Hedwig's cage, whom had yet to returned from her trek to Hermione's. Grabbing it, and setting it on his bed, Harry was about to start piling clothes into his trunk when he remembered that he no longer had to worry about the Magic use ban. Looking around his room a bit, he pulled out his new wand – which still felt a little awkward with the metal on it – gave a quick cough, and said aloud, "Pack!"

For a moment nothing happened, and then all at once the items he had painstakingly unpacked the day before threw themselves at the trunk. Instead of messily crowding in, as he had expected, when the got to the edge of his trunk, they flipped into the air, folded and/or arranged themselves, and then promptly fell down. A clean bed, bare closet, and few odds and ends that Harry had no idea about remained in the room.

Levitating his trunk, he started down the stairs, laughing loudly as he went down them for what he hoped was the last time. As he reached the first floor, Dumbledore made his way over. Holding out the same piece of parchment as they had used some four hours earlier he said, "You can send a letter to your family tomorrow, I believe that your aunt has just left to tell your uncle the 'good news', as she called it."

Smiling, Harry grabbed the parchment, and found himself in front of a very large, invisible, house.

**

* * *

**

He couldn't believe it. So soon after he had thought that everything would go his way, it had to be ruined. A 'family trip' she called it. 'Something you should be proud of', he claimed. They all were just jealous of his letters, and he knew it.

Ron Weasley sat up in his room, smoldering under the news that he would be forced to travel with his family to see Charlie, whom had just got promoted. Injured also, but promoted nonetheless. What did they suppose he could do in Romania? Nobody _there_ was owling him to go on a date – nobody _there_ knew that he was one of the saviors of the Ministry! The most he'd get was a date with the _brother_ of the great _Charlie_ Weasley, Head of Dragon management. Perhaps a few weeks ago he would have settled for it, but now he was a _hero_. People here wanted to go out with him because of it, not because of what anybody else had done – him!

Hitting his fist on the mattress he sat on, he grunted. Writing out a very strained note to Harry that he'd be gone for _a whole bloody month_ and a similarly irritated note to Hermione, he sent them out with Pig. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to leave only three days after school had ended, but he wouldn't know, because that wasn't going to happen.

_Mandatory_, she said.

"Bah!"

**

* * *

**

Seeing the house materialize this time was almost as enchanting as it was the first. This time it happened with the knowledge that it was _his_. It wasn't a big-headed notion that he thought of. It was simply a home; one that Sirius had wanted him to have. That was enough for him to get a small tear in his eye. Clearing his throat, he started ahead of Dumbledore.

Walking in through the front door, he remembered to keep quiet passed the curtained portrait. Spying Moony on a small couch in the meeting area, he became even more silent. Pulling out his wand and thinking of it as a staff, it grew in size. Muttering 'incendio' and pointing it at the fireplace, then a quick 'sonorus' at his throat he ran into the room and shouted, in the most regally loud voice he could muster, "I am the great Harry Potter, lord of this house! What fool dares to trespass on my property?"

Moony jumped up from his seat a good three feet, and turned around with a murderous glare in his eyes.

Spotting Harry, he cast his own 'sonorus', and shouted, "Some of us just had a sobering charm cast a few hours ago, but the hang-over is still here, so if you would be so…did you just use magic?"

Harry responded by pointing his staff at his throat with a 'quietus', and grinned at his once-teacher.

"What in Merlin's name is that thing?" came Moony's reply, "I don't remember you owning a fancy looking staff."

Wincing at his own loud voice, he too cast a 'quietus' and sat down. Patting the seat next to him, he said, "Sit down, and talk. Albus, you too, don't think I can't see you."

After a surprisingly short half-hour explanation of all that went on, Moony sat stunned at all the information he heard. Not daring his legs to move so that he could pace as he thought through it all, he just sat back further in his spot.

"Well, that's lovely I think," he croaked out, "I just received word from Padfoot too, so I knew you were going to own the house…but the rest. Wow."

Dumbledore took the silence after this proclamation and interrupted it, "Remus, if we could have a word over in the other room while Harry goes up and puts his things away?"

Both Harry and Moony stood, Harry nodding his head and heading off upstairs, while Moony nodded his head and went to the side room with Dumbledore following.

As Harry was about to drop his things off in the room he and Ron traditionally shared, he was struck with the thought of how he could pick any room in the house. Heading down a few hallways, he came to a door that had "Sirius" written on it. Opening the door, he found a rather unexpected sight.

In what was ordinarily a rather messy room, all of the walls had been repaired, the floor cleaned, and the bed made. Sitting upon the bed was a stack of moving pictures and a note. Harry dropped his things by a wobbly desk and read the short note.

_Harry,_

_Do me a favor and hang these for the lovely people when they do my 'public' will reading, could you?_

_Sirius_

When Harry looked over on the bed and examined the pictures closely, he saw that they were all of Sirius in glamour poses. Kissing at the camera, winking, showing off his muscles – all in what the photos declared the 'vacation capital of the world', Azkaban. Contrary to his bleak surroundings, Sirius was dressed in rather fashionable attire, and had at least one witch on his arm in each. Harry burst out laughing as he thought of what a wonderful setting they would provide for a will reading. It was almost something he thought Gilderoy Lockhart would do.

He began unpacking his belongings – most of which he needed to replace, and now had the freedom to do so whenever he felt – into the room.

Meanwhile, downstairs Dumbledore was asking Remus for a set of favors which were easily agreed upon. While it would be a pity relocating for a few weeks when Harry had just gotten here, he could see the need. His own ulterior motives however, prodded him into thinking that perhaps with him out of the way, his own slot two weeks prior to Sirius's would be the magic number.

**

* * *

**

Hermione Granger felt a weight lift off her chest as Hedwig flew out her window. The short note she had sent Harry said exactly what she meant – she didn't want to write about the subject, but rather speak with him about it. Asking for his phone number, and then a quick mention about OWLs just to make everything seem perfectly normal, she went down to enjoy the rest of her day.

**

* * *

**

Coming down into the meeting room, Harry found only Dumbledore sitting down. Looking to either side for Moony, he shook his head and went over to Dumbledore to ask where he was. Before he could complete the question though, Dumbledore began speaking.

"Harry, Remus is going to be out of the house for a few weeks working on favors I have asked him to do. I would ask you not to get upset with me, because I thought that during this time we could begin your training. It would be best not to have anybody besides you in the house during this time."

At the word 'training', any thought of protest went out of Harry's mind. Quickly sitting down, he asked Dumbledore, "When will I be starting this training?"

Chuckling, Dumbledore replied, "Tomorrow, I'll bring over some books for you to work through during the day. I imagine that tomorrow will bring a new stage of your powers as Bludrok estimated it'd take around a week for you to recuperate. We'll be doing some work that can ease you into adjusting to the magic levels, among other things. I can tell you though, that they still won't be easy spells. Many of them will bring the need to redecorate and repair the damage dealt by them."

A little nervous at doing these spells on his own, Harry asked, "Do you think that the house will need much repairing when I'm done with this week then?"

A chuckle hidden by a cough was part of the reply he got, the other part was, "No, I'm sure things will work out just fine. Why don't you relax the rest of the day, and enjoy your new home? I need to go pick up the books and also contact a few friends. I will see you in the morning, Harry."

At the last he got up from his seat, walked over to the exit hallway, went out the door, and 'popped' away. Harry sat back on his sofa, in his house, thinking of how wonderful and challenging training was going to be.

**

* * *

**

Harry woke up at eight in the morning. The slight dusty smell of Sirius's – Harry's – room clung to him as he made his way to the bathroom. Grabbing a – again, dusty – towel, he jumped into the shower and turned it on. Yelping at the sudden coldness, and banging his head at the state of the shower, he realized that all of these things were something that he'd have to take care of.

When he came down the steps half an hour later dressed in some loose clothes, he saw Dumbledore sitting down at the dining table with a package and newspaper. Reading the newspaper, and drinking a cup of tea, he looked up at Harry and merely asked, "Ready?"

Harry grinned and said, "I'll grab a bit of toast and then I will be."

Dumbledore began undoing the package while Harry was eating, and when Harry had finished held out a bandana towards him. Harry looked quizzically at it, then figured that there must be a reason for it, put it on, and turned towards Dumbledore.

His Headmaster smiled, handed over two books, and said, "Now that you look the part, I'd like you to go through both of these by the end of today."

Excitedly, Harry looked at the covers of the books, and grew slightly confused. One read, "_Charming your chores: a guide to household spells_" and the other read, "_Magically Building: a Wizards home repair guide_".

Lifting an eyebrow, he flatly said, "Professor, you said that what I'd be doing would cause the need to repair, not that I would be repairing."

Dumbledore similarly lifted an eyebrow and said, "Did I? I must have made a small mistake. If you don't at least attempt those spells, I'm afraid we'll have to put off other training, because these should also help you adjust to your new power levels. I'll be back around eight pm tonight. Oh – and don't worry about replying to Miss Granger's note to you. If you finish your training by a week from now, we shall go retrieve her from her home. I have already made the necessary arrangements with her parents. Lemon drop before I go?"

At Harry's shake 'no', he left the same way he had the afternoon before.

Harry thought back to the conversation that had just recently taken place. He had been told that Hermione could come here if he finished training, but there was not mention of Ron. He'd have to ask about that later on. Gaining some resolve to work on these the best he could – never let it be known that Harry Potter didn't take his training seriously – he decided to work on the home repair book first. Things needed to be fixed before they could be cleaned and decorated. Opening the cover up, he felt a strange tug he'd never felt before. As soon as he set his eyes on the book, it seemed that he had the _urge_ to read it…or at least _more_ of and urge to read it than he normally would.

Working through the first couple hundred pages in little over an hour, he felt fairly proud of himself. Surely, the book had many more pictures than those that Hermione usually read, but he still felt like he too could read through a magic text if he wanted.

Walking over to a wall that was slightly bending under the ceiling's weight, he pulled out his wand. Using the detection spell he had learned during his reading session, Harry found the weak points in the wall's support and set to work fixing them. As he did, the wall straightened up a bit and looked…healthier. Disturbed slightly by his thoughts on how the wall looked, he moved on to the next, and the next. After getting the hang of it, he shot all over the house, up stairs newly mended, around corners filled in, and through doors freshly straightened and oiled, to fix whatever he could with the reading he had done. It didn't occur to him that usually a Wizard would have to specialize for over two weeks to do even the most basic of these spells. All that mattered was he had to have these books done by evening today, and that if he didn't, seeing one of his best friends would be put off.

Breaking for lunch only after he'd fixed everything to the best of his ability – the plumbing was still problematic, and he didn't know how to set up the water heating charm yet, along all the other things that weren't related to structural repairs – he sat down for a quick lunch. Going through the last hundred pages as he ate, he found that he wouldn't be learning how to fix those pipes today, nor would he be taking a hot shower tomorrow. The remaining pages were set up on how to prepare for color-charming materials, predominantly, walls. He picked up the household spells guide next – a skinnier book – and started reading it. Many of the spells he's seen Mrs. Weasley do before, so he knew about how to use them, but there were also quite a few he didn't know. Again he began his running all over the house cleaning individual things and working out stains until quite by accident, he cast a spell as he was thinking of his staff. The spell ended up going through the staff and, poof! His cleaning spell, instead of just cleaning the armchair he was working on, cleaned all the upholstered furniture within five feet. He was rather lucky that there were a few other pieces nearby, so that he could find this out, but at first he couldn't believe it. A few tests proved that this was his most effective way at cleaning, and so things sped up from there. Walking back to the kitchen at about seven, Harry set down his wand and made himself a bit of eggs and ham for dinner – it was all he had in the house. When Dumbledore showed up and stepped into the house, he laughed at the clean and fixed walls, floors, and furniture in contrast to the very dusty Harry Potter.

The next few days flew by in a very similar fashion, with Harry finally getting a hot shower and the third day after finding the heating charm he needed in his second bout of books. Remembering to ask about Ron, he was told that the Weasleys would be going to Romania the next day, and that they would be gone for quite some time. He only remembered Hermione's note when he went up to his room the third day after a particularly long time polishing the furniture. Turning to his desk, he found the one thing he'd yet to polish. Finishing the job and picking up the note, he smiled at the mention of OWLs, and then noted to himself that he should contest his results as soon as possible. The last couple days convinced him of the ease at which he could now cast spells already well learned, and his reading, while not getting horribly quicker, was allowing him to focus quite a bit more on the content.

It was the start of his fourth day that brought the dreaded color spell into Harry's life. All of the walls in the house had been prepped for color charms from the first day, but only now did he find the spell. For good reason – even though casting it was no problem for him, he always got the colors wrong. Once he finally got a wall the color he liked, he'd turn to the next wall and not be able to get the same shade. He remembered the time his uncle had complained about how the person who invented paint mixing should be shot, and Harry had just found the one thing they agreed on. While not quite the same as mixing paint, he found it rather difficult until he read a bit further into the text – after near an hour of frustration – about how you could make your wand 'remember' the color. Before finding it, he'd even tried using his wand in 'staff mode' to try and do all the walls at once. It turned out to be a mistake. After he spent the better part of a quarter hour charming the new color off of everything, he decided that there were some spells he just shouldn't use a staff for. The day ended with a worn out, multicolor, Harry begging Dumbledore never to show him the "_Color charms for Dummies_" book ever again. He slept quite well that night.

On the fifth day, Harry woke up feeling rather light-headed. Well, light-headed wasn't exactly the word. His head just felt…free. When he started thinking about the new feeling, he realized he'd been feeling it since the first day after Gringotts. When Dumbledore arrived he mentioned it.

"Professor, as odd as this sounds, I haven't noticed until now, but my head feels rather…empty if you will. No! Not empty…but, it feels like something isn't there, and not in a bad way."

While unwrapping the newest series of books, Dumbledore said, "I've been expecting this, Harry. When the Director told us he was removing the curse my immediate thought was one thing…"

"Voldemort is out of my head!" Was the excited whisper from Harry. His mind reeling with this information, he got up from the table he'd been sitting at and did a little jig.

A very undignified snort came from Dumbledore as he watched Harry do his celebration dance, and he pushed the books he'd just uncovered over to Harry's seat.

"I will be helping you with this part of your week's training, Harry. It's time we stopped with fixing up the house. I think if there was anything left to be fixed in here you would have it done in a few seconds anyway. I'm going to be teaching you some essential spells for your use today. I've needed to get a couple licenses for you in the process, which was what a few of the owls I sent out your first day here were about."

As he said this, Harry looked at the books on the table. Three books lay in front of him. The first two were, "_Apparating, you know you want to_" and "_Albus Dumbledore's guide to getting the pop out of your poof: Apparating with low noise_". The third was a gold bound copy of "_Getting around with friends, family and co-workers: Portkeys for business and pleasure_".

Harry made a choking sound as he read the titles, but it was ignored by Dumbledore as he continued, "We'll go over the Apparition first, as that's necessary for learning about Portkeys. I imagine that if you prove as good at that as you have with you minor spells, we'll have you at least jumping around in a day. We have time for you to take a bit longer though. After that, we'll work on the Portkeys. They could take you anywhere from half a day if you get the hang of Apparition quickly, to a day and a half if you take to it a bit slowly. If we get done early, I dare say you could head on over to Diagon Alley for the clothes you were mentioning earlier. That way you would have some things that fit nicely when you went to pick up Miss Granger."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once again and Harry thought to himself.

_Merlin! When will that twinkling stop? I could use some new clothes though…wait a minute! I'm going to be learning…?_

It took an 'enervate' from Dumbledore to get the day started.

**

* * *

**

That day and the next flew by rather quickly, and he was soon Apparating all around the house and London with Dumbledore, getting used to the feeling. His Portkeys took a bit more work, but they weren't much different from Apparition.

On his seventh day of training, Harry was dead. He'd just gone to the ministry to validate his licenses for both Portkey creation and Apparition by taking the practical test. They were somewhat surprised by the silence of his Apparating, and also quite impressed with the control he had over his Portkeys, but Harry didn't notice much. He just wanted to go shopping for clothes and then prepare Hermione's room for her before sleeping.

Doing exactly as he wanted, he Apparated over to Madam Malkin's for a new wardrobe. Getting measured for quite some time, he asked for clothes in a range of colors and fashions, plus some casual robes, dress robes, and swimming wear. The accidental expansion of one of the lower level bathrooms caused him to consider an indoor pool, and he wanted to be ready for it. Not caring how much it cost – he had enough from the Potter Trust to buy England – he picked out one outfit specifically for the next day picking up Hermione. He couldn't quite figure out why, but he had the strong urge to make a very good impression on her parents. Finding a nice green button-up shirt that would blend in with forest fauna and a pair of beautifully crafted black slacks; he piled them on with the rest of his purchases. Shrinking them and then carrying a small package out the door, quickly went over to Flourish and Blotts to pick out a few books he'd been meaning to look at. One dealt with transfiguring furniture (even though he'd had quite enough of cleaning and repairs, he still wanted a bit of different décor in each room) and the other dealt with warding homes. Dumbledore had recommended that he learn to ward the house personally, so that he could modify the wards as needed.

Making a portkey out of a pebble on the street just because he could, Harry found himself walking up to his room, unpacking everything with a mutter and a wave of his wand, and then falling fast asleep.

**

* * *

**

He was awake fairly early in the morning, skimming through the book on furniture transfiguration and making sure everything was just right in Hermione's room before eating a quick breakfast and getting dressed. He went out to the garden and picked a bundle of miscellaneous – yet still color coordinated, he'd had enough color instruction to know how to do that – flowers for Mrs. Granger. For a reason he couldn't figure out, he kept nervously flattening his hair down until it was eleven in the morning, the time Dumbledore had said they'd be expecting him.

Taking out a picture of Hermione's house and studying it for the fourth time that morning, he concentrated for a moment and then was gone in a soft sigh of air.

Showing up right on there front porch he grinned at his placement and knocked on the door. Waiting a few seconds while quick footsteps could be heard in the house, the door opened and he saw two heads smiling at him from the living room before he was knocked slightly backwards by a large amount of beautiful brown hair.

He choked out a, "'lo Hermione," before wrapping one arm around his friend of nearly six years.

He grinned and said, "Would you like to come see my house?"

* * *

**End Note: **So there it is! Chapter 2. Please give me more feedback, and if anybody is having trouble with the formating let me know. Doreedo  



	3. Touring, and a Second Wet First

**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! I'm so incredibly sorry about how long it's been! A couple of things happened that made me slow down a lot, and when I got the second half of this chapter my typing slowed down - it was hard to write correctly. Even now, I don't feel happy with it, but I'm posting it now so that I can hopefully move on to a more free-flowing section. As a pre-warning and reminder, Hermione has yet to truly accept that she almost died last year, which is why she's getting rather emotional. Near the end of this (painfully so) short chapter there is a bit of angst and fluff. Things will work, but next chapter is going to be more about that. So sit back, relax, and cross your fingers that my muse holds for the next chapter! ;) Doreedo**

* * *

Previously:**

_Showing up right on there front porch he grinned at his placement and knocked on the door. Waiting a few seconds while quick footsteps could be heard in the house, the door opened and he saw two heads smiling at him from the living room before he was knocked slightly backwards by a large amount of beautiful brown hair._

_He choked out a, "'lo Hermione," before wrapping one arm around his friend of nearly six years._

_He grinned and said, "Would you like to come see my house?"  
_

_

* * *

_**Chapter Three: Touring, and a Second Wet First  
**  
Hermione drew back from him and asked, "Your house? Aren't you staying with the Dursleys?"

Harry shook his head and said, "I'll tell you in a bit, but first let me go introduce myself to your parents. I imagine that we must look fairly odd like this." He gestured to the arm he had casually around her shoulder. It wasn't quite a hug, but her greeting to him could certainly lend to different appearances.

Blushing a bit she replied, "Of course, I should have thought about that. We wouldn't want my dad to skin you, now would we?"

Harry laughed and said, "No, I'd prefer not to be skinned today. Wait a minute; did you just make a joke about an adult? Who is this person before me? Certainly not Hermione Granger!"

Hermione gave a sniff and said, "Ha-ha. I think I'll have to get you for that later. Plus, they're my parents; I have certain liberties that I can take with them."

They walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Granger and Harry removed the slightly hug-smashed bouquet from its rest place on his arm.

"Here you go Mrs. Granger; I just picked them from my garden this morning. I wasn't quite sure what you'd like, but I know that Hermione was quite partial to these when she first saw the garden, so I thought that you might be too."

She looked at him with a warm smile and said, "Please, call me Jane. I don't like being called 'Misses'. Being called 'Doctor' at work is bad enough."

Harry smiled back at her, and then turned to Mr. Granger and held out his hand, "Nice to meet you, sir. I don't have any flowers for you, but perhaps a handshake will do?"

Mr. Granger laughed and said, "Just call me Sam. Jane's right – honorifics aren't even fun at work." As he said this, he grabbed Harry's extended hand and gave an even shake.

Harry returned the handshake and asked, "I know this is rather sudden, but I've been working fairly hard this past week and had nobody but the Headmaster to show it off to. If you two had some spare time, would you like to come take the grand tour of my home?"

Hermione frowned and said, "Harry, you aren't living with the Dursleys, and what do you mean the work you've done? Are you staying at Grimmauld Place now? Oh! Did you finally get that tapestry down? I bet that took the whole week!"

Harry smiled and said, "Well, I have moved into Grimmauld Place now, but I've done a bit more than take down the tapestry," then mumbled to himself, "Although that was a bit tricky."

Jane and Sam seemed surprised at his offer but Sam told him, "We'd love to, but we have to be at the office in three hours. The Headmaster told us that you'd be able to get Hermione to Grimmauld, but I doubt you're prepared to take three other people."

His smile growing wider, Harry faked an incredulous tone and asked Hermione, "Have you not told your parents about magical travel before? I'm ashamed of you, Hermione Granger, really. I'll have to say 'D' for Dreadful."

Shooting Harry a nasty look she retorted, in a slightly dangerous tone, "Of course I have, _Harry_. And do you honestly want to start with grade jokes right now? I mean, really, if you're not careful you'll be as thoroughly uncreative as Malfoy. Wait a minute – are we going by Portkey then?"

Wincing at the Malfoy remark he said, "Yes, we're going by Portkey, didn't Dumbledore give you one?"

Hermione's face fell and her shoulders slumped, "No, I had hoped he'd given it to you. I suppose I should go owl him so that we can get one shortly."

Her parents stood off to the side, watching their conversation in amusement. When they had seen the traded poking fun of each other Jane couldn't help but laugh. Her daughter certainly was easy to see through at times.

She was broken out of her thoughts, however, when a loud shout of, "What do you mean that I needn't bother?" was heard from her daughter.

"Well, I suppose if you don't really want to go soon we could wait for Dumbledore," was the response from a slyly grinning Harry, "But really, I think I have a better solution."

"Harry Potter, if your idea so much as _involves_ a broom, I will hex you where you stand, whether it's illegal or not."

Harry's grin got a million times wider as he pulled out his wand and shot back quickly, "It's a funny thing you should mention that particular restriction on underage magic use. You see…I am now," he paused, swished his wand in the air, "quite," again he swished his wand, "exempt." After a final swish of the wand, a short flick, and a mumbled word, her packed baggage was dragged down the stairs and right next to him.

Jane and Sam stared blankly for a moment – they had seen magic before, yes, but they had thought that there was something keeping anybody under seventeen from using magic. Of course, Harry had mentioned being 'exempt' but…

"Ohhh! You should see the look on your face Hermione! It's brilliant!"

Harry's laughter brought them out of their reverie, and Jane finally asked, "Harry, are you going to be the one taking us to your home then?"

"Mom, don't be silly. Harry can't make a Portkey, you need to be licensed to…" Hermione started off and then faded away as Harry pulled out piece of wood, tapped it, and said, "Portus."

"As she was saying, Mrs. – er, Jane, without a permit, it is _very_ much illegal to create a Portkey. So, shall we be going everyone? I can make one for you to come back to your home in a couple hours for work if you'd like."

While Hermione was opening her mouth to speak Harry quickly said, "Hermione, can I give you the explanations later? I know you'd like to get all of the details, but if we start now I'll never get to show off my house."

Hermione choked slightly and asked, "You really want to show off _Grimmauld Place_? I mean, Harry…it's great to have your own house, but…it isn't exactly nice looking."

Harry didn't pay any attention to her as he picked up the luggage by his feet, held out the Portkey, and said, "Everyone ready?"

A few seconds later, and one 'humph' from Hermione, they arrived.

* * *

"I still can't believe that he sent me on this mission with _you_," Remus snarled, "I mean, honestly. Could he have possibly picked a worse combination than us?" 

Severus Snape sat on a tree stump, staring at the overcast sky. If it would start to rain now, he'd be extremely pissed off. Not because of the rain itself – no – but because that would give his companion one more thing to complain about.

Looking at the situation though, he wanted to complain loudly himself. They had never exactly been close, Remus and he, but at least it wasn't Black standing there complaining.

_No, I can't think like that of those dead._

"Argh!" he yelled, "can you cease in that behavior before I have to kill you?"

Dieing took all of the fun out of yelling at Black, really. He'd seen enough death not to mock those since passed, but it was…_difficult_…when the matter came up with one of your childhood tormentors.

He looked over to the werewolf sitting similarly as he, to find him smiling.

"You can't kill me right now Severus. What ever would Dumbledore think? Plus, I obviously don't want to be here either, so let's just leave it. We're about three days away from the pack I believe. I'd like to get back for Harry's birthday, so I'd appreciate if we could move quickly."

Ah, yes. Potter. Severus turned his thoughts to the boy. It was evident that something had been flipped inside of him after the fourth year, perhaps something that should have been left un-flipped. Dumbledore had filled him in a bit on the exorcising of V-The Dark Lord from Harry's mind, but only enough so that he could report to Vo-The Dark Lord.

_Blast. Being around Potter is affecting me too much. I shouldn't even get close to saying _his_ name._

A drop of water from above snuffed his thoughts. Bringing his pale hand to a similarly pale forehead, he looked in annoyance at the ground.

Of course, it had to come.

_Oh Merlin, not the rain._

Standing up he said, "Let's get going, if we're going to get wet we might as well walk at the same time."

* * *

The group of three Grangers and one Potter landed with a silent swish in front of a vacant space between two homes. 

Noticing the confused looks that he was receiving from Jane and Sam, Harry fetched a piece of paper from his pants pocket while saying, "Professor Dumbledore has the house under the Fidelius Charm – it renders the house non-existent to those whom don't know of it's…well, existence. If you just think about what's written on the paper really hard, you'll be able to see the house."

Hearing a gasp from them and, surprisingly, from Hermione too, he grinned. The two adults were silent from awe of what had just happened, and from what had just appeared. The large house stood straight and was completely stripped of pain. All that currently showed for color was natural wood.

"Harry…It wasn't like this when we were last here. You couldn't have possibly done this though; I mean…_this_ is really powerful and time-consuming. The charms necessary, along with the transfigurations take weeks to learn for most specialists, and even then they can't cast them on this scale by themselves. Did you get some Order members to help you?" Hermione's jaw stayed open after her question, while her eyes gazed at the house.

Harry shuffled his feet a bit and sheepishly looked at Hermione.

"Well, Hermione, that's part of the story for later…but I can safely say that this was just me."

Hermione finally turned her eyes onto him and asked incredulously, "Just you? You can't be serious! I, well, it'd take…it's just not possible!"

"Honey, I think we should just look around the house and take Harry's word for everything right now. After all, you didn't think he could do the Portkey thing earlier either," was the interruption made by Jane, whom had just broken from her awed stupor.

Hearing this, Harry smiled and replied, "Well, I don't know if you should take my word on _everything_ right now, but it's safe to do so when it comes to this house. Shall we start with the inside tour now?"

Without waiting for an answer, he charmed Hermione's baggage to follow him and walked off toward his house. Seeing little point in _not_ following him, the Grangers acquiesced. Upon reaching the door, Harry reached for the handle and warned, "I haven't been able to get all of the furniture changed for each room's style yet, but I figure I'll have plenty of time to do that. The most time consuming parts were repairs and coloring."

He got a skeptical glance from Hermione, but nothing else, and so opened the door to reveal the new interior of Grimmauld Place.

Sam and Jane, whom had no previous experience with the house, were still shocked at the interior's beauty. Hermione was too stunned to speak when she saw the changes. The floor was polished and stained oak, throughout the entire first level. Dark navy walls with similarly dark silver moldings were visible for quite some time. A gradient led from the navy to a lighter version of itself where the kitchen doorway was, opening up the smaller space a bit. The stairway slowly transitioned to a forest green, with a sea-color at the middle step.

Without a word, Harry showed them the lower level. His 'tour' didn't need to be spoken – every room just _felt_ like what it was meant to be. There was one door, though, that stood out from the rest. The door itself was almost completely opposite the colors of the rest of the level. The oranges and reds that were colored on it appeared to be flames themselves, and lead the eye to the main feature on the door. Burned into the wood was the moving image of a phoenix, charmed to preen and combust just as a 'normal' phoenix would.

Inside the door was a room with three subtle grey walls, and one wall that had smaller maps covering a map of Europe. The map was charmed to zoom on command – the particular item was bought by Harry, mainly because he'd been unable to find the necessary charms before he wanted the house done. A large black table with chairs in every possible space was in the middle of the room and an enlarged trapdoor in the corner of the room lead to a separate part of the dungeon specifically for the Order. While he didn't give them a tour of those facilities, he did explain that the only way to open the door was to be in the Order of the Phoenix, as any highly delicate 'projects' that would take place down there couldn't be used by anybody else.

They left the room and went upstairs. As they entered the second level and the forest green hallways appeared, the flooring shifted. Instead of the oak, they were walking on fluffy slate-colored carpeting. Each door had a name on it, written in metals that changed for each door. Harry had decided that this floor would hold the Weasleys in one wing of it, and the more commonly present Order members in the other wing. Each wing had a total of ten doors, two of which were bathrooms. Blank spaces were on the walls with boxes sketched on them, so that Harry would remember where he wanted to hang portraits.

Continuing upstairs, Harry began to get a little nervous. They were only a floor away from Hermione's room, and the library. The walls were currently white and bare, as Harry had yet to learn how to do the charm he wanted to here. This floor contained only eight doors, a large difference from the twenty or so downstairs. Four of the doors Harry mentioned were part of the 'Trapdoor' network that the Order room had, and would soon only be walls once he could get around to it. There were still twenty rooms on this floor, but sixteen of them were only accessible to him and the Order.

They climbed the last set of stairs in the main hall to the fourth floor. To the right were large, heavy double-doors that lead to the Library, and proclaimed so in pewter letters. There were only five other doors in the hallway, even though the space for the house was the same on this floor. The walls in the hallway were currently a sea blue color, but seemed to change every now and then. When Jane mentioned this Harry told them that he was in the middle of charming moving pictures onto the wall, and so the spots that changed color were where something was partially charmed.

Hermione walked to a door that had her name in a solid mist-like substance and put her hand on the doorknob. Harry immediately spoke up, "Ah, um…I tried to decorate the room how you'd like it Hermione. I can change all of it no problem if you don't like it. You have to set a password on the door right now or else you won't be able to enter. Just go ahead and think about the password really hard."

The door clicked open and Harry continued on, "As master of the house I technically have access to any room here, but the password system allows you to decide when you want visitors, and it's separate from the house itself."

Harry kept rambling about aspects of the lock while Hermione went inside. The first thing she noticed was the size. Her room was almost as large as three of the other rooms. The walls were lined in book shelves – some had books, others did not. Every shelf had a plate on it that could be charmed to display what was on it, and next to her bed was an inventory sheet that would automatically update when books were placed on the shelves. There was a window that had been charmed to display a forest while closed, instead of the houses outside, and her walls reminded her of growing vines, twisting around trees and their branches.

There were two doors in the room, one labeled 'Library, back', and the other labeled 'Bathroom'. She hadn't seen the remodeled Library yet, but wisely didn't enter it. If she had, the inviting chairs and desks sitting next to the shelves would have kept her there for the rest of the day. Opening the door to the bathroom she again became speechless. The bath was a fantastic marble Jacuzzi, and her sink had gleaming silver fonts and handles. There was a Muggle mirror up instead of a Wizarding one, and a column of fluffy towels lined the cupboards that were off to one side.

Sam was perhaps the one who summed up what she was thinking in one word, "Wow."

Hermione's face turned hard and she glared at Harry, who gulped and immediately took the glare for a different meaning than she meant.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I thought you might like it. I'll change it…what color should the room be? Do you want more shelves – I can look up a space expanding charm. Does the bath need to be bigger? I wasn't sure when I transfigured it…" He trailed off as her glare melted away and she barreled into him with a hug.

At this, Sam arched his eyebrow, and Jane laughed silently to herself. The look on Harry's face was priceless as he tried to appease her 'anger', and instead got a hug. Her daughter, of course, just had to seek the answer to _why_ he had done this…as if it weren't obvious to anyone pulled away from the situation.

"It's just well…you deserve it Hermione. You're my best friend – yes, you. You're the only one who has always been there, without prejudice to me. I know it may not be Ron's fault he was raised with me being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' but it's still true that sometimes that's who I am to him. And well…you're you. You will yell at me, make me do my homework, and make me feel." Nervously he added, "Er, feel normal that is. I don't know any other way to put it than that."

He didn't realize that this was exactly the wrong thing to say if he wanted her to let go of him, even though he wasn't quite sure he _really_ felt like letting her go. She just held onto him tighter, and he soon felt wetness coming from where her head was. Looking helplessly at Sam and Jane, he just hugged her while rubbing her shoulders. He'd never been the best at calming down crying women.

Jane saw the lost look in his eyes when Hermione started crying, and waited a bit before walking over to help. Patting Hermione's back she said, "Why don't we all go look at Harry's room now? I'm sure he's got it all dressed up even more than this!"

Hermione nodded while pulling away from Harry. She looked at the wetness on his shirt and gave him an embarrassed look and mumbling a, "Sorry."

He just pulled out his wand and said, "It's all right, I can just use a drying charm."

They moved on down the hall.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore hummed a merry tune as he stopped by his favorite Muggle candy shop in London proper. Picking up a scoop and cleaning out their supply of lemon drops as he did every visit, he thought of the rate Harry had been learning this last week. It had been astounding. 

Even though his magic had yet to fully recover, Harry could learn new material in what seemed like minutes. The only hang-ups he had when decorating the house came from inexperience in what matched, not from ability. Teaching Harry Apparition didn't take near as long as any other student he'd taught, and was more enjoyable than his own. Instead of merely disappearing when he Apparated, the magic around him felt almost like he was drifting through the wind and away. The slight rustle of wind when he left also accentuated this perception.

After finishing up at the candy shop, Albus made his way back to Diagon Alley, and then to Flourish and Blotts. Picking up the order he had made a few days prior for Harry's studies, he Apparated to Hogsmeade, and then walked to his office. He would give them to Harry at the meeting they were having later on, and they should last the couple days he'd leave him be to get Ms. Granger settled in.

* * *

They moved to the side of the building opposite the library, to where another pair of double-doors stood. Labeled in jade was the name Harry Potter. Opening the door, they stepped into an extremely large room. Two doors lead off from the main room, one labeled 'Bathroom', the other labeled 'Master's Sanctuary'. Other than that though, the room was quite plain. Everything was white, and the bed and desk were quite simple looking. Other than the fact that it was so large, you couldn't tell that this was the Master's suite. 

"Harry, why is your room…er, well, not done?" Hermione stumbled a bit, thinking that perhaps it _was_ done, and that she had just insulted his work.

Harry blushed and averted his eyes and she started to feel horrible. He started to speak though, and explained the real reason behind the room's state. "Well, I wanted to make sure that the rest of the house and your room was done first so that you'd have a nice place to stay. I wasn't able to finish the rest of the house unfortunately, because I haven't been able to get all of the portraits I wanted for the hallways, and some of the charms I need I don't know."

Sam and Jane shared a look. Sam spoke up, "Well, Harry, we have a bit of time…could you show us how you decorate the house?"

"Umm…I don't know exactly what I want it to look like right now, but I was planning on putting some wards up today, so I could show you that."

_Oh crap._ _I'll prolly need my staff for that. I shouldn't have spoken too soon._

Hermione yelled, "Wards? You're going to cast _wards_ like they're nothing? You have lots to explain, Potter."

Harry glanced at her parents, but they seemed excited to see him do magic, so he had no out. Sighing, he summoned the warding book he had bought previously, and thumbed through it for the ward he wanted. Finding the page, he skimmed quickly through the spell and pulled out his wand.

"Hermione, I need you to promise me not to ask any question after you see this. Please? I'll explain it to you later, but right now I need to concentrate on the spell."

Huffing at the thought of yet _another_ thing she couldn't ask yet, she just nodded.

Concentrating a bit, Harry's wand expanded into its staff form. Ignoring the gasp from Hermione, he spoke a few words and a perfect circle surrounded him. It was done in white, and had a small rune sitting at the center. Nobody but he could see it at this point, because of the fact that the floor was also white. Tapping his hand against the staff he made a small cut appear on his finger. Pressing the wound to the center rune and saying a couple other words, the circle expanded and became a rust color. Pulling his staff high into the air, he gathered magic around it and thrust forcefully into the center rune. Absolutely nothing in the room moved for a few moments, and then from the circle burst a transparent white liquid.

Everybody braced themselves for impact from the liquid, but it just flowed right through them. It then shot outside the house and wrapped around it, like a blanket around a small child. Harry's staff orb glowed brightly for a couple seconds as the ward solidified. He had a small drop of sweat on his forehead from the spell, but that was all.

It was three minutes that felt like seconds before anybody spoke. Even Sam and Jane, who had no magical knowledge or aptitude, could feel the power that had been around them. Finally the silence was broken by Hermione asking Harry why he needed to ward against Dementors.

"Er, practice? That was the first ward I've actually cast, and I figured that I might as well keep something out that I don't like while I was at it. The blood bit was for…"

Hermione sniffed, "I know very well what the blood was for. I hardly think you need to worry about having it passed onto your next of blood currently though – it takes so much more power to do when you put that bit in too. You need to rest now. And don't give me that look!"

Harry was exasperatedly glaring at her. He turned to Sam and Jane and asked, "Would you like to head home now? Hermione and I need to discuss what's happened in the last week."

At their nods, he pulled out a sealed envelope and handed it to them. It was addressed to the two of them, and had Dumbledore's scrawl as a tell-tale of whom it was from. Waving goodbye, he asked just before they were wrenched away, "If you'd like to hear the story later on, we can have dinner over here tonight. Would you like to?"

Sam nodded, and then he and his wife were gone.

Harry winced as he heard Hermione's foot tapping behind him. Turning around with a pleading look on his face, he asked, "Before you interrogate me, can you let me explain first?"

* * *

They spent _quite _some time discussing what he'd done, or rather, had gotten done. Lunch had come and gone without them realizing it, and still Harry's story wasn't done. Hermione insisted on having him describe all of the magical effects going on, not just tell her 'that Bludrok performed a blood ritual'. She also went off on a tangent after hearing that he was going to retake his OWLs. 

All in all, it was about three in the afternoon before the tale was over. Harry had thought that Hermione would be at least a bit unhappy when he told her about how quickly he could learn, but instead found himself on the receiving end of a scheduling nightmare. She pulled out a planner from her bags and started writing down revision and study times for the entire month. He noticed while getting up that she seemed to want him to catch up to the amount of books she'd read by the end of the month. Internally moaning, he got up.

"Hermione, I've got to go to Hogwarts for a bit to meet with Dumbledore. Do you want to come?"

A waving hand was the response he got, so he walked downstairs and out the door before Apparating away.

Hermione got her first view of the library about thirty minutes after Harry had left. She had decided that planning out Harry's studying would actually have to wait until she saw how quickly he learned the more advanced branches of magic – construction charms were difficult…but they weren't anything special. Re-studying five years of Hogwarts classes in one month was a little more than special. It was extraordinary.

Sighing, she thought of how that summed up just about everything that was Harry: extraordinary. His generosity in giving her such a magnificent room, his explanation on why he gave it to her…the way she felt when he hugged her back.

_If only I could be the kind of beautiful person he deserves. Then I could feel that every day…_

Snapping out of a slight daze, she grabbed a random book from the shelf labeled 'Books on Transfiguration'. Attempting to get absorbed into the book, leaving her painful thoughts behind, she read furiously. Her reprieve didn't last very long, and after an hour should put the book down and stared at the wall.

She'd be spending a lot of time alone with Harry now. He was the only person besides Dumbledore that would probably even be in the house. The thought was both exhilarating and unbearable. Not knowing what else to do, she just stayed in her comfortable chair…thinking of how extraordinary she'd like to be.

* * *

Harry appeared just outside Hogwarts' wards, near the town of Hogsmeade. After a short walk to the castle proper he went directly to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's entryway. Harry had to think a bit before remembering the password which he had told him, 'Pixie Stick'. The gargoyle moved away from the opening as soon as the password was spoken, and Harry immediately went through and up to Dumbledore's office. 

The firm voice of Albus Dumbledore greeted him, "Ah, Harry, there you are. Is Ms. Granger still settling in at Grimmauld then?"

Harry shot a look that spoke 'please save me' and said, "No, she's actually writing up my study schedule now. As soon as she heard I was retaking the OWLs she decided to do it."

Chuckling, Dumbledore moved on to what they had planned for their meeting.

"Well, since you've mastered your training this week, I think I'll allow you a bit of a break. I do have some books that you may enjoy over the next few days, although you'll need to read up a bit more on warding before trying to tackle these. Also, I've arranged for Dobby and Winky to move in and help out with things in a few days. Your house is rather large, and I'm sure you don't want to spend all of your time cleaning."

Harry nodded and asked, "Headmaster, when will the next Order meeting be? And will I be allowed to join now?"

"I was hoping that you'd allow us to meet at your home next week. It's the next most convenient time for all of our members. As for your second question…" At the shake of his head, Harry began to speak, but Dumbledore held an open hand up.

"I need to present your situation to the Order at this meeting. Since you need to train a bit more in your defensive magic anyway, one more meeting shouldn't make too much of a difference."

Harry hung his head a bit in acceptance, "I should probably be focusing on what I can do with my power-level now anyway. I can be more of a use to the Order when I know what I can and can't do. If you could excuse me, Headmaster, I need to get back home. Hermione's parents are coming over tonight, and I need to start making dinner."

* * *

When Harry got home he went up to Hermione's room, expecting to see her where they had been talking earlier. He was puzzled for a moment when he found she had moved before mentally kicking himself when he thought of who she was. 

He walked over to the double-doors of the library and entered quietly. Over in the transfiguration section he saw a mass of brown hair, and crept up to it. Getting his arms in position to tickle her, he waited for the perfect time to strike. Just before Harry grabbed her, he heard a small sob. Startled, he took a step back, and tripped over his foot in the process.

A thump echoed in the room and Hermione jumped up while asking, "Harry?"

Rubbing his aching hip, Harry stood up and saw Hermione's tear-stained face. Forgetting his own injury he rushed over with worry on his face.

"Hermione, what happened? Why are you crying?"

Shifting a bit on one foot she replied, "Oh…it-it's nothing. You know just…just…House Elves! Yes, I was re-reading a rather painful part of House Elf history."

He just looked at her skeptically and said, "Hermione…one, I _know_ you're lying. Two, I've never seen you cry over the House Elves no matter how horrid the book you read on them was, and three…"

He walked over to the table by her chair.

"…you had a book on transfiguration out. So what's the matter?"

A sad smile appeared on her face, "Are you sure that you're Harry? I don't recall him being so able to use logic. Even with the recent developments…well, I doubt that particular attribute received any boost."

He walked over to her and guided her back into the chair, "Don't try and change the subject. Plus, just because I don't say things doesn't mean I don't notice them. Now, what made you cry?"

A thousand different lies flickered across her mind. Millions of different ways of changing the conversation to something less painful and invasive followed. For some reason though, Hermione Granger for once did something she wasn't used to: she spoke without actually thinking.

"You."

Harry immediately sat down. The chair was large enough for two people, although now he doubted Hermione would even want to be sitting with him. He had made her cry? What did he do? Was there something he could do to fix it?

"I, er, is there anything…that is. This is going to sound stupid and inconsiderate…but what did I do? Is it about leaving you alone while I went to Hogwarts? I mean, I did ask you…but you seemed to be absorbed by your schedule making…"

Hermione was silent for a short time. Looking back, saying 'you' wasn't the best way of doing things. Right now though, her mouth wasn't listening to her thoughts, and was doing the thinking by itself.

"No! It's not your fault. It's just that…well. I don't know what it is. Actually I do but, I…"

Throwing her hand up into the air, she yelled, "Bloody Hell!"

Harry was shocked when he went to the bank and had his blood cleansed. He was shocked when his wand blew up. Heck, he was even shocked when he first started Apparition. Now though, he was astounded. Hermione rarely said anything at all near Ron's normal language. He almost missed the start of her next sentence while he was in a stupor from her previous one.

"Do you know Harry? That it's almost been six years since we met? Six bloody years! I can't figure out when it happened. I CAN'T! It's not something I can think of, because whenever I do I get like this."

Harry started to worry. He'd been doing something she didn't like for that long? Why hadn't she told him earlier? She knew he'd work on it for her – he'd asked her multiple times to begin with if he really wasn't doing something wrong. It's not like he had had friends before.

"Sometimes…I just want to stop. Stop going to school, stop seeing you, because I can't take it! You're a star Quidditch player, you get good grades!"

At this point Harry mumbled, "Not as good as you…"

"Girls and women fall all over you! Really beautiful women! How in the world can I be good enough? What makes me somebody that you'd like to know? There's _nothing _about me that is good enough to be your friend…don't you hear people say it? It doesn't matter that I work so hard to get good grades. It doesn't matter that I help them with homework whenever they ask. My hair is too bushy, my body isn't shapely, my voice is bossy, I complain when people break rules…"

She started crying heavily now.

"I have been told it over and over! And I agree with them. I'll never be somebody good enough for you! I should just stop trying…that way I won't have to think about how much more you deserve in a gir-I mean, a friend!"

She leaned onto his arm and continued to mumble incoherently through her sobs. Harry felt at a loss again. Last time she had been crying on him, her mother had bailed him out. This time though, it seemed much more serious and nobody else was around to help him.

Figuring that last time, it at least helped…not to mention felt good…he wrapped his arms around her and let her cry more. Almost by instinct, he whispered in her ear, "Shh. Don't cry, everything is all right. You're more than good enough to be my friend. I'm the one that's unworthy of _you. _ Don't listen to those other people. I like your hair, and…"

He cut off here, blushing a bit. It wasn't exactly the thing you _said _to your best friend, but it seemed that Hermione needed to hear it.

"…and your body is beautiful. Your voice isn't bossy, at least not when I'm not doing something annoying. I need you to tell me when I'm breaking a rule – I usually don't know when I am. I won't say that sometimes you do things that bug me, but you have to admit that I do a lot that bother you too. You are an extraordinary person, Hermione. _Don't _listen to those other people."

He kept repeating these over and over in her ear as she calmed down.

Just as she seemed to have stopped crying she pulled away and looked him in the eyes. Tears came back into her own as she said, "But it doesn't matter how good I am. You'll never…"

Harry stared back at her with blatant confusion on his face, "Never what?"

Hermione just shook her head, "No, no! It's just not…it's ok Harry. I'll live without it. It'll be better like this…"

Shaking her, he practically shouted, "Hermione, I don't know what you're talking about! Like you said, my logic _didn't _get any boost from the ritual. I don't understand!"

Again her mouth took over without thinking, and this time most of her body went along for the ride. Leaning in towards him she said, "It's not logical Harry. That's why…" At this she leaned closer and Harry started to realize what she was doing. "I'm having such a hard time."

As she finished the sentence she closed the rest of the distance between her lips and his, and Harry Potter received his second very wet first kiss. After the shock wore off, he decided that this one was much better than the last.

* * *

**Ending Note: **As I said up top, Hermione has yet to accept completely what happened at the end of fifth year. She almost _died._ That affects you emotionally. The next chapter will be out much quicker, so don't worry! Doreedo  



	4. A Fluff Interlude, and Elves

**Author's Note:** Yes, an update. Imagine that ;) I know this is really short - compared to what I've written so far - but I wanted to give you guys something. This has been a rather difficult time for me, mentally, emotionally, physically, so I thank you for your patience. This chapter is shameless fluff, I admit. And I like it XD Something longer should be out soon, but stress behaves like the tides. Hopefully it's out to sea for a bit.

Oh - I'm not sure where some of us got confused, but demanding that I continue or hand off the story to another writer is rude. Another writer will not write this story. Period.

That said - I'm not talking about a review, but rather a PM. As fair warning, I will regretfully ban anybody who sends me something like that from reviewing. As much as I like criticism, I do not condone messages that seem threatening.

* * *

**Previously:**_Again her mouth took over without thinking, and this time most of her body went along for the ride. Leaning in towards him she said, "It's not logical Harry. That's why..." At this she leaned closer and Harry started to realize what she was doing. "I'm having such a hard time."_

_As she finished the sentence she closed the rest of the distance between her lips and his, and Harry Potter received his second very wet first kiss. After the shock wore off, he decided that his one was much better than the last.  
_

_

* * *

_**Chapter Four: A Fluff Interlude, and Elves**

An interesting pseudo-silence developed in the house right after Harry and Hermione broke their kiss. For a good minute, they stared at each other. Behind the drying tracks where tears had been, behind the slightly blushed cheeks, Harry saw his best friend in a way that, truthfully, wasn't that surprising to him. 

The kiss, he pondered, was even better than feeling the presence of Voldemort leave his mind…for while Voldemort leaving was darkness being flushed out, the emotion behind this kiss felt like a Phoenix song erupting inside his head.

The sound of Hermione rising broke him out of his thoughts.

"Hermione, wh-where are you going?" he managed to say from a still confounded mouth.

She turned back towards him, looking slightly away, and spoke quietly.

"It'd probably be best if I went home now, don't you think? Things would just be too awkward after this…"

He interrupted her quickly, with some confusion and no small amount of panic in his voice, "You mean we can't do that again?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the stricken look on Harry's face. Disbelievingly, she sat back down slowly.

She dropped her eyes a bit while her cheeks blushed a bright red, "Would you like to…?"

Before she could finish the sentence though, Harry had moved right up next to her and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn't something he had really planned, nor was it something he knew he had the courage to do, but suddenly he found that _not _kissing her was ludicrous.

This time, with fewer tears, Harry could feel the exquisite softness of Hermione's lips. They broke apart and stared at each other more…still lost in the entire exchange they had just had. Hermione was the one to break the silence.

"Did you really mean what you said? Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

Deciding to lighten up the mood, Harry made a show of looking her up and down. His mind wandered while following her lovely hair down to where it met her shoulders, back up to her face that always was so expressive and thoughtful. He then trailed his eyes down to a place he'd never really allowed himself to look before, and found what he thought to be two lovely shaped bulges in her shirt. …he coughed and blushed a bit as his gaze got caught up on them.

He continued on, drawing his eyes to her delicate yet sturdy hands, and back to her waist. Not allowing himself to look anywhere else besides her legs, he admired the remainder of her. That was when he vaguely heard her calling his name, and answered the question that she had asked.

"If you're not beautiful, nothing in this world is."

* * *

They had spent quite some time after that acquainting themselves with their newfound ability to kiss. It was about forty minutes from when he had arrived that Harry realized something was being forgotten. He tried to work out what it was as they stopped for air and, upon finding the important thing that was forgotten in the back of his mind, jumped up and shouted, "Oh no!" 

Hermione looked up at him with panic on her face.

"Your parents are coming for dinner, and I haven't made anything yet!"

Sighing in relief, Hermione looked somewhat abashed when she realized what he had said. With timidity that was uncharacteristic of her, Hermione spoke to Harry.

"Um…Harry? I don't think any of us really expected you to make dinner…"

Upon seeing the confusion on his face she quickly continued on.

"It's not that we don't think you _can _cook…it's just…well, fine. I guess it _is_, just slightly, because we doubt you can cook!"

Harry grinned at the way Hermione's voice sounded. This certainly sounded like the young woman he knew and loved. Knew and loved. Knew and _loved._ Harry started laughing at the thought. How had he not seen it? Why had nobody told him? It was clear when he looked back at his actions, his words, his priorities. Well, maybe not clear, but pretty darn close. He would never admit to being the cleverest fellow in the world when it came to matters of the heart.

"Well, thank you very much, but I can in fact cook. What I come up with when I only have fifteen minutes of time though won't be very pretty."

He offered an unnecessary hand to help her up, and she accepted it. Both were smiling, and blushing a lot less than they had been just a few minutes ago. Relishing the newfound physical awareness, Harry held her hand for a moment before speaking.

"Let's get going downstairs. Even if I can only make sandwiches in this time, we'll at least have food to eat."

And so they walked hand-in-hand out the broad library doors, and started to move downstairs. When they reached the second floor, a delicious smell caught their attention. Glancing at each other, they hurried down to where the kitchen was, curious as to what was making the aroma.

A blur was moving around the kitchen, stirring pots, opening ovens, testing temperatures, and cleaning the dining ware. Truthfully, it was only when they noticed the small blur drop a knit hat that they knew what was going on.

In a slightly bewildered, and amused voice Harry called out, "Dobby?"

The blur immediately stopped moving and Dobby the House Elf was seen running over to where they were. His tiny little arms went around Harry's legs. The very hyper elf started to speak incredibly quickly, and Harry could only just understand.

"Mr. Harry Potter sir has come down! Harry Potter sir and his Miss should sit while Dobby finishes. Dobby is sorry to's not be having the foods done now, but the Headmaster sir is just be telling Dobby about Harry Potter sir's house short time ago. Winky is be's asking about coming with Dobby, but Dobby did nots know what Harry Potter sir is thinking, sir."

Even while being able to understand what the elf was saying, Harry got stumbled upon the profound amount of 'sirs' that the elf's speech contained. The look that Harry had given Dobby – a look that showed apparent confusion – seemed to be an answer to the little elf, for he started towards a wall shouting, "I's sorry Harry Potter sir, I will not be asking again! Dobby is a bad elf – "

Exasperated, and still completely befuddled, Harry grabbed Dobby before he could hurt himself.

"Dobby, it's not that. The Headmaster had told me that you'd be coming in a few days. I just didn't expect you so soon. It would be fine if Winky comes now too."

With a pleading glance at Hermione, and her resigned huff and nod, Harry was able to relax his hold on the elf and timidly return to Hermione's side.

Dobby called Winky's name excitedly, and she instantly appeared. Both elves bowed before going into the kitchen to complete dinner.

Still rather shocked at the sudden appearance of the House Elves, Harry created a Portkey for the Grangers' home, and Hermione and he set off to pick up her parents.


End file.
